Velvet Heat
by tinlizzie82
Summary: What if Castle felt the need to write some steamy fanfiction? And Beckett succumbed to the urge to read it? And then they both found out what the other was up to?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I have only the vaguest idea where this came from (although I do, fortunately, know where it's going). I was rereading Heat Rises and Nikki's discovery that Rook is a secret romance author made me ask myself: What if Castle had a secret too? What if, in a moment of need, he wrote some steamy RPF fan fiction? And what if Kate read it? And then they both found out what each other was up to - would sexy!times ensue? Of course the answer is yes. And with that in mind, I just want to tell everyone, this story is currently rated T in the interest of keeping it out in the main sections of ff..net, but that rating will eventually change to M. Don't say I didn't warn you. :-)_

_And, as always, a disclaimer. I don't own this show, or the books, or any of the characters that are familiar to you. If I did, the whole shebang would be far less PG (i.e. they'd be fucking like bunnies already). So, Andrew Marlowe, could you please take the hint already. We want some action. Soon._

* * *

><p>Castle's hand curled into a fist as he sat staring at his computer screen. His writing was not going well tonight. Actually, writing had not been going well for several nights, ever since he and Beckett had concluded their last case.<p>

It wasn't the case itself that was the problem, seeing as it was a fairly mundane murder that occurred during an ill timed breaking and entering by a perp who was kind enough to leave behind plenty of identifying evidence. The only interesting part had been when they went to apprehend their inept suspect at his messy apartment.

The not-quite-a-criminal-mastermind had first let them in with a show of innocence and then tried to evade them by running straight for the door, despite the fact that his path led right through Beckett. Not a tactic that would have worked in most normal circumstances, but the guy slipped on a filthy tee shirt and careened into Kate with no warning. Like a stack of dominos, they all went down: Beckett, the perp, and knocked off balance by someone's flailing arm, Castle on the bottom of the pile. The perp scrambled out the door on his knees only to be apprehended by Esposito and Ryan before he even made it to the stairs.

Back in the apartment, Castle was still lying on the floor, moaning as he attempted to get his breath back, and vaguely realizing that the tumble had left Beckett sprawled on top of him.

He moaned a bit louder.

"Are you okay Castle?"

He could hear the note of concern in her voice and let out another vague gasp. She shifted so she could face him, concern in her eyes.

"Is it your head?" she asked, her fingers gently exploring his scalp.

The contact, coupled with the fact that she was still sprawled across his chest, her face only inches from his, was more than he could take and another low noise escaped him. It must have sounded different, or at least prompted by a less painful sort of distress, because Beckett's eyes narrowed and her grip tightened in his hair. She swung herself across him until she was straddling his waist … well, not exactly his waist. He was acutely aware that she was actually somewhere south of his waist.

"If you're faking I swear I will injure you myself," she said with a glare.

Unfortunately, Castle was completely unable to answer since his entire being was focused on the rather inappropriate response her proximity was causing. A response that apparently made her notice their relative positions since she promptly released her grip on his scalp, causing his head to bounce against the floor for the second time that day, and leapt to her feet as if she had been scalded.

"Castle," he heard her mutter in disgust as she strode out the door to assist the other detectives. At least he thought that was what she said. It might have been another, somewhat less appropriate word.

Then the incident was over, apparently forgotten, at least by Beckett. Castle also shrugged it off while he was at the precinct, but that all changed when he was at home and writing. It was hard enough to put himself in his characters lives when their fictional relationship had gone so much further than the relationship that was the focus of his own life. It had gotten even harder now that he and Kate had grown closer without ever reaching where he wanted to go, but he usually managed it. So why had that one little moment had completely wrecked his concentration? Perhaps it was the fact that his chivalrous vow to wait for Kate meant that he hadn't had sex anytime in recent history. And no, self service didn't count.

The thing was, whenever he sat down and pictured Nikki Heat, all he could imagine was the feel of Kate's thighs as she straddled him, and the delicious heat of her … _damn it, this was getting him nowhere_. He had even tried his usual standby for this sort of situation and skipped ahead to write a planned sex scene. Unfortunately, that hadn't been any more fruitful since the material he found himself writing was far too steamy to be publishable in any mainstream novel.

That was when the idea struck him. Maybe what he needed was to go ahead and live out this fantasy. Okay, not in real life, that would most likely end with Beckett inflicting some sort of grievous bodily harm. And completely apart from a fondness for retaining all his body parts, he really had no desire to see her arrested for assault, even if he did find the picture of her in handcuffs quite exciting. No, he would have to live it out in fiction … fanfiction to be exact.

Even though he knew he shouldn't, he had ventured over to the fan sites several times and read some of the material that his, and Nikki's, obsessed followers had come up with. Some of it was surprisingly good. There was also the fact that much of it was very explicit, and none more so than the stories that fell into the category of RPF, otherwise known as real person fiction. It seemed that some fans were not satisfied with writing about Nikki and Jameson but went the extra mile to write about Castle and Beckett themselves. He found the stories oddly tantalizing, if also vaguely creepy. Right now, however, it was just the venue he needed.

He, Richard Castle, was going to write a fanfic … an RPF fanfic … a very, very sexy RPF fanfic. And no one would ever know.

Flexing his fingers over his keyboard, he closed his eyes for a moment and let his imagination take him wherever it wanted. Then he shut out the real world and started to type.

_Kate Beckett was far from oblivious to the longing looks that her faithful sidekick, Richard Castle, was prone to sending in her direction any time he thought she wasn't looking …_

God, that made him sound so pathetic, but when writing fanfic it was probably best to stick to the usual tropes. He certainly didn't stare like that in real life. Well, he didn't do it very often. Okay, he only did it when he was sure she wouldn't notice. Anyway …

_Although she would die before revealing it to him, she actually liked the looks. They warmed her up in a way that Josh never had. Of course, that was exactly why she had to hide her reaction, a relationship with Castle would be sure to upset their fragile equilibrium and their friendship was too important to risk in that way. Then again, she had read those truly hot scenes in his books … and imagined reconsidering her position. Of course every time she started thinking this way, Castle did something that was so ... well, so Castle, that she promptly gave herself a mental slap and stuffed any fantasies firmly back into the furthest crevices of her mind._

_Just then, the subject of her morning musings strutted into the squad room and sprawled unceremoniously in his usual spot beside her desk. She forced a stern look onto her face. "Getting a late start today, Castle?" she asked._

_"No, an early one actually. I was out at the crack of dawn to pick up the newest Blue Avenger comic. See," he said as he held out his copy, still smelling faintly of the printing press._

_"Very nice, but couldn't you wait until later to get it. Somehow I doubt they will run out."_

_"Of the comic, no, but the first twenty purchasers also got this," he said proudly as he spread open his shirt to reveal a stretchy Blue Avenger costume top._

_"Underoos?" she asked scathingly to cover the fact that the form-fitting spandex outlined the shape of his chest in a rather enticing way, if you ignored the fact that he was wearing a silly superhero costume under his street clothes …_

Castle stopped typing for a moment, distracted by the thought of actually getting a really cool Blue Avenger suit. Then he ran a hand across his own shirt, distracted even further as he pictured Beckett giving him a heat filled glance. He shook his head to clear his mind and turned back to his computer ...

_Castle was undaunted by her disdain and turned to display his newest acquisition to Ryan and Esposito, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up. _

_"Very cool, bro," Esposito contributed._

_"Almost looks like the real thing," Ryan told him._

_Smiling, he looked back to Beckett. "I may not be a cop, but at least now I can be a semi-authentic superhero."_

_His enthusiasm was infectious and she couldn't help but smile back. "Just make sure you remember that unlike the Avenger, you can't dodge bullets at superhuman speed."_

_"I will ... if you will," he told her, his look suddenly serious._

_She felt herself drowning in his gaze and had to tear her eyes away before she could answer. "I'm pretty sure I learned that lesson the hard way."_

_Who knows how long they might have gone on staring at each other, but Esposito broke the moment when he put down his phone and announced that they had a body._

_Beckett gave herself a mental shake and looked up. "Details?"_

The words were flowing now, and Castle wrote quickly, anxious to get to the good parts. He would have happily gone there immediately. After all, porn-without-plot, otherwise known as PWP, was an accepted genre in the world of fanfiction. He had once read a truly wonderful piece of smut that took place entirely in a broom closet and then spent the next week twitching every time he saw janitorial supplies. However, his own writerly instincts were too honed for him to avoid the pesky nuisance of creating an actual story.

Fortunately, years of practice had enabled him to write rather rapidly, and the details of the case slid past quickly. A little gore, a bit of forensics, a few red herrings ... and Castle looked up to see that his desk clock read two AM. As much as he hated to stop when he was on a roll, he could feel a yawn trying to rise from his throat. Even though he had not gotten to any of the steamy parts, the very act of writing this story, using their real names, had left him feeling strangely purged. Besides, he already had more than enough material to begin posting. All he needed now was a suitable pen name.

What to use? Something with his initials? No, that was too boring. He toyed for a moment with ReallyRick, but discarded that as too obvious, especially if anyone from his publisher or publicist wandered over to check out the fandom. They might recognize his writing style and become suspicious. Wait, he had it ... Alteredego. It was perfect - meaningful, but also just the sort of cryptic pseudonym that an ambitious fanfic writer might adopt.

A few clicks later, he was the proud owner of a new literary profile with a freshly posted work in progress. Now all he had to do was sit back and wait for the reviews to roll in. Even though he was a New York Times bestselling author, or maybe even because of it, he knew he would spend the next few days obsessively checking his email for review alerts. No one ever got too famous to enjoy a little positive feedback, even if these comments were likely to be rife with capslock and replete with internet acronyms.

Smiling to himself, Castle clicked the button that would forward reviews to his smartphone, and then, with a huge yawn, he headed off to his bed … and what he was sure would be pleasant dreams


	2. Chapter 2

"Uhn ... ow!" Kate yelped as her flailing arm connected with the sharp corner of her nightstand. Rubbing the bruised spot, she slowly sat up in her bed. The pain was annoying but actually a blessing in disguise, since it woke her from the depths of her nightmare. The dreams did not come anywhere near as frequently as they had in the first months after her shooting, but that didn't do anything to ameliorate her terror when they did disturb her slumber.

She looked over at the clock beside her bed. Shit. Almost four o'clock - too early to pretend that she needed to get up and start the day but just late enough that, once her heart stopped racing, a return to sleep would be a waste of time. She worked her tongue around inside her mouth, tasting the dry metallic remains of her nightmare. If nothing else, she needed to get up and get a drink to wash the taste of fear from her lips. With a sigh, she climbed out from under her blankets, pulled a pair of yoga pants on under the oversize NY Yankees tee shirt she had worn to bed, and headed for the kitchen.

She filled a teapot and put it on the stove to heat while she rummaged through her cabinets in search of some soothing herbal tea. As a rule, Kate was a coffee drinker, but ever since the nightmares began, she had taken to keeping a few bags of chamomile tea handy for situations just like this. Somehow, even she couldn't face the stronger kick of her usual brew when she woke in the dark recesses of the night. Once her tea had steeped and been sweetened with a squeeze of honey, she clutched the warm mug between fingers still cold from her terrors and wandered over to her couch to curl up and wait for dawn.

After checking the clock for the fifth time in as many minutes, Kate realized she needed to find some way to occupy herself for the next few hours. She clicked on the TV, but after a few minutes of mind numbing infomercials and a quick scan through movie channels that seemed to be offering a steady, late night diet of thrillers and horror flicks, she turned the set back off. Perhaps she could read instead. Her gaze wandered over her bookshelves, resting for a moment on her collection of Castle's novels.

Although she would never admit it to him, his books, especially the Nikki Heat series, were her distraction of choice at times like this. Unfortunately, she had read them all so many times (another thing she would never tell him), she knew the stories too well for them to take her away from her worries. No, she needed something new. It was time to indulge in her favorite vice; a habit so closely guarded that she would turn in her badge before she revealed it to anyone in her real life.

Kate Beckett was a fan fiction junkie.

Not that she was an indiscriminate reader, sticking as she did to the Derrick Storm and Nikki Heat fandoms, with an occasional foray into Temptation Lane when she felt the need of a treacly dose of nostalgia. She also avoided the most angst-ridden stories, she had enough of that in her own life, preferring to distract herself with fluff, humor, and sometimes ... when circumstances directed her mind down roads she had forbidden herself in real life, smut. There, she said it. She liked to read Jameson Rook/Nikki Heat porn.

Anticipation coiling pleasantly in her belly, she grabbed her laptop and a cozy blanket and settled into a comfortable arm chair. A quick glance at the fan fiction archive she frequented let her know that none of her favorite authors had posted any new stories. Rather than brave the uncertain work of writers she wasn't familiar with, she headed over to a forum that specialized in recs and reviews. Before she decided what to read, she would see what her fellow fans had found worthwhile.

An entry at the top of the page caught her eye for two reasons. First, it was a recommendation for a new fic, one that had been posted only a few hours ago. In her experience, it usually took a few days, if not far longer, before someone took the trouble to post a formal review of a new work. Second, the poster just couldn't say enough about the story. Tidbits such as "unerringly captures the tongue in cheek humor of the books," and "dialog so true to character, you can hear it in your head," piqued her curiosity. There was just one problem: the story was an RPF.

Kate did not read RPF. Sure, she had ventured into that niche of fandom and sampled a few stories, prodded by a sort of sick curiosity into how the fans envisioned her and Castle, but reading fictional work about herself had been akin to having an out of body experience. Not to mention the sneaking feeling that it was, in some strange and twisted way, a mild invasion of her privacy. She was sure the authors didn't intend it that way … but still, it was altogether weird, and not something she thought she'd engage in again.

Unfortunately, her searching failed to yield any other stories that sparked her interest, and she found herself returning again to that intriguing RPF. It was written by an author she was not familiar with, and the pen name, Alteredego, gave her no clues about the writer's interests or identity. She clicked the link to Alteredego's profile page and read what he or she (most likely she, that was simply the way fandom rolled) had to say for themselves.

_Hello, dear readers (perhaps that is too hopeful since I have just begun posting here, but I am an eternal optimist so "dear readers" it is, and with any luck, time will make the plural accurate)._

_There is much I could tell you about myself, but writing is more about the reader than the author, so I will simply declare myself to be Nikki Heat's, and by extension, Kate Beckett's number one fan, and let the remainder of my identity remain clouded in mystery. After all, anything I say here is unimportant as long as my stories find a way to speak to you. So, without further ado, I invite you into my imaginary world and can only hope that you enjoy your stay._

This distinctly unilluminating bio was followed by a rather cryptic quote.

"_The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air. All I must do is find it, and copy it." ~Jules Renard_

All in all, this profile gave Kate little indication of what she would find if she did venture to read the only story this author had posted. She pursed her lips as she tried to decide whether to continue. Yes, the story was ... well, it was about her. And yes, that idea was mildly disturbing. But she had rarely come across a story recommended so highly, so how bad could it be? Before she could change her mind, she opened the fic and began to read.

_**Velvet Heat**_

_Kate Beckett was far from oblivious to the longing looks that her faithful sidekick, Richard Castle, was prone to sending in her direction any time he thought she wasn't looking …_

Then Kate lost all track of time as she read page after page, the words flying by until she came to the final scene of the chapter.

"_Verhouven can't be the doer."_

"_Why not, Castle?" Beckett asked, quirking an eyebrow in anticipation of his latest wild theory._

"_It's too much of a cliche. I mean, psychotic patient gains release from an institution only to turn on those who helped him, killing them in cold blood and then turning himself in when he emerges from his fugue and is racked by remorse. You can't get more cliched than that. Well, you could … but it would have to involve a cheating spouse and a big insurance policy. Or having the butler do it."_

"_Butler? What butler? And there is no insurance policy." Ryan asked, clearly confused by the tangent to which Castle's mind had wandered._

"_Different cliche. Don't worry about it," Beckett told him. Then she turned towards her partner. "Focus, Castle."_

"_I'm just saying …"_

"_Well, don't. Our suspect was found in possession of a knife matching the wounds on both victims. I have no doubt that by tomorrow we'll also have lab reports showing traces of their blood on that weapon." Then she went back to her paperwork with an air of finality._

_Castle listened quietly to Beckett's explanation, but when she finished his face took on the impish expression of a five year old about to get into mischief. He leaned in towards Beckett while her head was turned away and then, without warning, whispered in her ear. "Cliche."_

_Beckett jumped and then glared at Ryan and Esposito when they weren't quick enough to smother their giggles._

_She turned back to Castle and fixed him with her best death stare. "So, writer boy, since you're fixated on this cliche idea, how about you define the term."_

"_A phrase, action, or idea which is so expected or predictable it has become meaningless," Castle rattled off._

"_You talking about yourself, man?" Esposito asked him with a grin._

"_Never. The inimitable Rick Castle is one of a kind," Castle replied with a smirk._

"_But our murder is not," Kate said, bring them back on track. "It's predictable … which is how we close most of our cases. And meaningless is a pretty good description of most crimes."_

_Castle started to open his mouth to object, but closed it again when he realized he really didn't have an answer for that. Oh well, he thought, not every crime can be worthy of a novel - otherwise, how would anything get solved without him._

And that was where it ended, at least until the author posted the next installment. Kate looked up from her computer, blinking a bit as she adjusted back to the real world. She was amazed to find the first pale shreds of light painting the clouds outside her windows. Well over an hour had gone by while she was engrossed in the tale that this author had spun, and it was finally time to get started on her day. But first she had one more thing to do.

Rarely did she encounter a story that absorbed her to the same degree as this one. The reviewer had been right, you could almost hear the characters speaking to you. A rather unnerving experience if, like Kate, you actually knew what they sounded like, and even more so when one of them was yourself. Still, she thoroughly enjoyed the tale and this new author certainly deserved some encouragement.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she logged in to her account and sent the writer a signed review under her screen name, Doublevision, a sideways nod to the Nikki/Kate paradigm that was her public life. The interesting thing was that anyone who read her gushing review would never recognize it as coming from the normally buttoned down Detective Beckett. Such was the power and freedom granted by the internet. Online, Kate had no walls around her.

_I love this story and can't wait to read more! You really capture the characters and the dialog is spot on. Even the details, like Castle's obsession with the Blue Avenger, ring true. Keep up the good work and soon __**I**_ _will be __**your**_ _number one fan. :-) Update soon!_

She hit the button that would send her an alert whenever the story was updated, and after a moments thought, the one that marked this author as a favorite. Then, with a satisfied sigh, she shut her laptop and headed off to get ready for her day


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Just a quick note, a couple of you have asked why Kate isn't suspicious about the story, given that it contains so many details that are close to her *real* life. This will actually get explained to your satisfaction a few chapters in the future, but I must confess to one mistake. Back in the first chapter I referenced Josh in the purported fanfic. Unfortunately, I borrowed the idea for the fanfic case from another abandoned story I was writing and I failed to catch that detail. I'm too lazy to go back and fix it now, so let's all just wave our hands and pretend we didn't see it. **_**;P**

_**Also, I just want to warn you, my updates may get a little erratic for the next few weeks. I have some work travel and don't yet know how much time I will have for writing. I will, however, be plugging away whenever I can, so please stick with me despite any potential delays.**_

* * *

><p>Kate could feel the effects of her early morning as she stared intently at her computer screen while updating the paperwork from their last few cases. Beside her, Castle seemed equally tired as he occupied himself with some sort of texted conversation on his phone. The beeps that went off as he sent and received his missives were getting on her nerves. Then she heard Castle yawn for what had to be the fifteenth time since he arrived at the precinct, looking slightly the worse for wear, and it added to her annoyance, not only because it made her have to stifle a yawn of her own, but also because it made her wonder just what nightly activities had left him so exhausted.<p>

One more yawn and she finally snapped. "Could you please stop that."

Castle looked up from his phone where he had been industriously tapping away and gave her a quizzical glance. "What? This?" he asked, raising the offending instrument.

"Yes … no, I was talking about the yawning."

"Oh, sorry. Late night."

Kate stifled a surge of jealousy at his breezy explanation. "Some of us actually have jobs to do and can't afford to come in half asleep," she said, because she was not concerned about what he did during his time away from the precinct. Really, she wasn't, and if she kept insisting on this fact, maybe one day it might even be true.

"You've been yawning too," he pointed out. "And don't give me anything about it being contagious."

Fortunately, since she really had no urge to tell him about either her nightmares or how she passed the time after she awoke, Kate was saved from answering when Castle's phone let out another small beep. "Better check that out," she told him with feigned indifference. "Wouldn't want your new friend to think you're not paying attention."

"New friend?"

"Well, you've been texting on that thing all morning."

"Oh, that. It's nothing, just stuff for a fan site," Castle said, trying to keep his tone light so that she wouldn't pry any further. Or ask to see what he was doing, since he was actually answering the reviews that his foray into fan fiction had generated. Talk about instant gratification. He was surprised to learn that he found the way his story allowed him to connect directly with the readers, and multiple readers at that, meant even more to him than any official review his more traditionally published work had received.

"A fan site ..." Kate mused. Then she gave him a sly glance. "Would that make it the internet version of chest signing?"

"I'll have you know, my publicist encouraged that."

"Oh yeah. I bet she really had to twist your arm."

"Hey, my fans aren't all buxom twenty-somethings. I once had to sign a grandmother, and let me tell you, writing on that wrinkled skin was harder than you'd think."

Kate rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but grin at his irrepressible humor. "Poor Castle. The trials and tribulations of being famous."

"It's a heavy load to bear, but I forge valiantly onward."

"Hm. Well, do you think, when you're done with your fan service, you could do some onward forging on _our_ paperwork?"

Castle wrinkled his nose in distaste and gave her a dose of his best puppy dog eyes, but Kate was unmoved. "Okay, fine," he said with a sigh. "Just let me finish this last one and I'm all yours."

He bent back over his phone and finished up the reply he had been working on when she interrupted him. Then he hit a button and sent his missive on its way to an appreciative reader with the rather cute screen name, Doublevision.

A moment later, Kate's computer gave the little ping that indicated a new email had arrived. "Did you just send me something, Castle?" she asked.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Do you frequent fan forums?"

Kate's eyes flew up. "What? No!" she said, trying to still her pounding heart by telling herself that there was no way he could know about her secret addiction.

"Then it wasn't from me. And you know, you don't have to sound so insulted by the idea you might be part of fandom. Our Temptation Lane case aside, not everyone who loves a show or book is a basement dwelling wacko."

She breathed a sigh of relief and reminded herself that it was her guilty conscience making her so skittish. After all, the only people who knew she read fan fiction were the authors of the stories she reviewed, and not only did they know her by her anonymous screen name, they were a select group that, obviously, did not include Castle.

Several seconds had gone by while she pondered her dilemma and she suddenly realized that Castle was looking at her curiously. She gave a dismissive huff as a sort of cover. Then she reached for the large stack of completed paperwork sitting on the corner of her desk and handed it to Castle. "File room … if your fans can spare you."

"Do I have to? Wouldn't you rather I do something else? I could write some of your reports for you," he wheedled. "I'm good at that."

"A little too good, Castle. The last time I let you fill out the reports, Captain Gates called me into her office and asked if I was taking a cue from you and trying to start a new career as a novelist."

"They weren't my finest work, but …"

Kate cut him off. "And then she told me that although she appreciated the sympathy generated by the victim's 'ravaged innocence' and the way the suspect's 'hooded gaze' foreshadowed his guilt …"

Castle was nodding enthusiastically. "Those were my favorite parts too."

"... if I ever submitted reports like that again, she was going to fire me … after she made me rewrite them."

"Philistine."

"So you've been demoted to a task even you can't find a way to embellish." Kate nodded her head towards the door. "Now go."

And with a last longing look at his usual perch beside her desk, he did.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Kate had finished the most urgent bits of her paperwork. The scent of someone's lunch wafted past and her stomach growled. Ryan and Esposito had stopped by earlier to ask if she wanted something from the food truck that made a daily stop outside the precinct, but she had waved them off, a decision she was now regretting. Then she remembered Castle. If she was hungry, he was probably famished too. It was time to rescue him from his exile down in records.<p>

When she reached the basement, Kate nodded at the officer on duty outside the records room. "He still in there?"

"Far as I know. Heard some banging around earlier, but he's been quiet for a while now."

She raised an eyebrow at that tidbit of information and entered the room full of files. Castle was not anywhere to be seen and her mouth quirked up in a secret smile as she silently slid down the rows of boxes looking for her partner. She could have called out and warned him of her approach, but she was not about to pass up this opportunity to catch him out. Then, just around the next corner, she found him.

He was sitting on the floor, surrounded by open boxes, with the remains of a few reports scattered on the floor. His legs were stretched out in front of him and his back was resting against the wall of boxes. A few sheets of paper were loosely clasped in the hand that rested slackly in his lap.

He was sound asleep.

Another smile lit her face. If Castle had been awake to see it, he might have said she looked like the cat who had gotten, not the cream, but perhaps one who had cornered a particularly tasty looking, and wholly unsuspecting, mouse. Treading carefully in order to muffle the click of her heels against the linoleum floor, she stalked down the aisle towards him. When she reached his supine form, she paused for a moment just to look at him. His face was slack in repose, and if possible, seemed even more boyish now that sleep had removed the worry lines that had taken up residence ever since her shooting. He looked so peaceful, she was almost loath to disturb him.

Almost.

She swung a leg across him, moving cautiously to avoid stepping on the papers scattered on the floor, and braced her hands on her hips. Then, with her sternest look pasted on her face, she bent over to get closer to his face. "Castle!" she barked.

He startled awake, the papers flying out of his hand as he scrabbled backwards away from her, only to come up against the shelves behind him. "What? Who? I wasn't …"

"You weren't what, Castle?"

"I wasn't … sleeping," he said uncertainly.

"Uh huh."

She was still giving him her best death stare, but his initial alarm was beginning to fade as he came more fully awake and began to take in the sight of Kate standing over him. His gaze traveled up her body, beginning at the booted feet straddling him and continuing up her never-ending legs to the hands still propped authoritatively on her hips. Hands that had rucked up her top just enough to allow him a glimpse of smooth, taut belly between the buttons of her blouse. The sight rendered him momentarily speechless, but the direction of his thoughts became obvious when the look on his face slowly transformed from confused terror to dazed hunger. Domineering Beckett could wake him up any day.

Kate could tell she was losing control of the situation. "Castle," she growled.

He grinned at her unrepentantly. "Yes, mistress?"

She couldn't help herself, and the disapproving mask fell from her face as one corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. "Oh, for the love of God, get your mind out of the gutter and get up. I came to take you to lunch." Then she extended a hand to help him scramble up from the floor.

He laced his fingers through hers and rose to his feet. Once there, he continued to hold her hand, staring at her with a look that said his preferred meal was standing right in front of him. She would have disentangled herself, but his fingers were warm in her grasp and his thumb had begun to trace circles against her wrist and the sensations that generated made her breath come a little faster.

They stood there, motionless, for several seconds before Kate blinked and shook her head to clear her mind. "Are you going to let go of me so I can help you clean up and we can get something to eat?"

He wanted to say no, but his stomach betrayed him, letting out a loud rumble, and he reluctantly let her fingers slide from his grasp. Together they gathered up the scattered papers and returned the boxes to their places on the shelves. When they finished putting the dusty files away, Kate brushed her hands off against her pants and looked over at him. "Lunch?"

But his mind had not yet abandoned its previous track, so he leaned in close to her and asked in a husky voice, "Am I going to like what's on the menu?"

"Thai, Castle. I was thinking we could get some Thai."

"And here I was thinking you were a handcuff girl."

She laughed at his complete inability to pass up the chance for even the most juvenile sort of innuendo. "Just food, no restraints involved … unless you keep testing my patience."

He grinned back at her. "I guess that will have to do." Then he followed her out of the records room, still smiling because their little interlude had given him a few ideas. And very, very good ideas at that.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Now that he has uncovered his previously unknown addiction to instant reviews, Castle has, of course, taken to shamelessly fishing for compliments. Since his story only exists within the confines of my own, he generously provided me with this particularly Castle-ish, little rhyme to motivate you:<em>**

_Alerts make me grin_

_And Favorites are wins,_

_But Reviews are what light up my day._

_**Okay, I know, it's pretty cheesy - but hey, it's Castle we're talking about. His first suggestion was that I finish each chapter with the tag line: "Reviews are food for the writer's soul ... and if they're particularly tasty, they might even lick your fingers." Fortunately, I managed to convince him that he would have to reveal his identity before that little gem would be much of an incentive.**_

_**Now get cracking. You wouldn't want to disappoint the man, now would you? And I promise there will be no finger licking on my part. LOL!**  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Sorry for the long wait but I have been away and with very limited internet access. Which did have one slightly pleasant effect for those of you who have stuck around - this chapter is much longer. Anyway, enjoy and don't worry about my next extended absence, I'm back off to the same place this weekend but will post again as soon as I get back.**_

__Castle's rude awakening down in the stacks had temporarily revived him, but it was short lived. The longer they sat in the warm restaurant, the harder he had to try to keep from yawning. Kate noticed and when they finally finished eating and left the restaurant, she waved him off.

"Go home and get some sleep," she told him.

"But …"

"We don't have any new cases and you look like you need the rest." Then the corners of her lips quirked up. "Unless, of course, you like sleeping on the file room floor."

"I was just resting my eyes."

"And snoring."

Okay, he was losing this argument. And besides, he did have the urge to get home and go to work on _Velvet Heat_ before his morning inspirations faded away. "If you're sure you don't need me."

"I don't. Go home."

And burying one final yawn in the sleeve of his coat, he did.

Once he was back at the loft, he brewed himself a strong cup of coffee and carried it back to his desk. He would spend a few minutes jotting down notes and perhaps write a few scenes before he passed out for a nap.

Then the story caught him up and an hour flew by, punctuated by the sharp and steady tap of his fingers on the keyboard ...

"_Damn, we're back at square one," Kate said as she hung up the phone. "Jack Merriam's alibi checks out."_

_Castle raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief. "And you're surprised? The guy swore he was off being fitted for an Easter Bunny suit. You can't make stuff like that up."_

"_Well, technically, he was making it up. The costume shop said there was no Easter about this bunny. I think our guy is a furry," Kate told him._

"_Kinky," said Castle before hastily backpedaling when he saw the disbelieving glances leveled at him. "Yuck, but kinky. It was an empirical observation, not a personal preference," he said defensively as he gave a mock shiver. "So, what now?"_

_Ryan shrugged. "I don't know. We've checked out everyone who has a link to both our vics and we've got nothing."_

"_I was so sure Verhouven's knife would wrap this one up, but it's a dead end," Kate said with a sigh. Then she nodded towards the files Castle was holding. "I want to take another look at any of Natchez's and Beauchamp's patients who are designated as having violent tendencies."_

"_Man, I still say we're beating a dead horse," Esposito complained._

"_What if we're missing a link?" Kate asked. "We've been looking for a direct connection but what if one of our victims is connected to the killer, who's connected to someone else, who's connected to our other vic."_

_Castle started to hum. "And the leg bone's connected to the knee bone, and the knee bone's connected to the thigh bone …"_

"_Castle, focus!"_

"_Sorry, couldn't help myself." He didn't sound at all contrite, but he turned his attention to the files he was holding, flipping slowly through them. Suddenly, inspiration seemed to strike and he pulled a folder out of the stack. "What about this guy, Bacho? Sarah Beauchamp was the social worker who helped take his kid away from him."_

"_That's why we liked him for this, but as far as we know, Dr. Natchez never had anything to do with him ," Ryan said._

"_What about his wife, Lisa?" Castle asked._

_Esposito tapped a few buttons on his computer. "Nope … nothing."_

_Castle was undaunted. "Sarah's notes make quite a point about his penchant for violence."_

_Kate looked up at him, suddenly catching his train of thought. "And violent men sometimes abuse their wives."_

"_Who will go to great lengths to hide from their husbands."_

"_Lengths that might include changing their name."_

"_And keeping us from realizing they'd seen Dr. Natchez."_

_Kate grinned. "I think we've got it. Espo, check all of Natchez's female patients and see if there's a record of one of them changing their name."_

Castle stopped typing for a moment and scrubbed a hand over his face. Those little exchanges were always the hardest parts to write, even in the Nikki Heat books. Duplicating the weird synergy that he and Beckett sometimes displayed was hard to do when he was on his own, but he thought he had managed it. Now for a bit of lighter wordplay ...

"_I'm on it," Esposito said before muttering at Ryan out of the side of his mouth. "Does it ever freak you out when they do that?"_

_"Yeah, they've got this whole hive mind thing going on."_

_Esposito pitched his voice to a hollow and ominous key. "You will be assimilated," he intoned softly._

_"I heard that," Kate warned from over at her desk._

_Castle leaned over to whisper to her. "Just so you know, you can assimilate me anytime." Kate shot him a withering look. "Or not," he muttered hastily. "Shutting up now."_

_Esposito chuckled and then bent back over his keyboard to resume the search. They all watched anxiously as he scanned through the online records, their expressions darkening as his typing slowed without any spark of discovery._

_Finally, he looked up. "Sorry, I'm not finding anything."_

"_Damn." Kate swore softly. "I was sure we had it." She looked over at Castle, whose brows were knit together in thought. "If you've got a crazy idea, I'm ready to listen."_

"_When did the city start letting you fill out most forms online?" he asked._

"_Maybe five or six years ago," Ryan told him._

"_And Bacho got divorced before that, so his wife would have had to fill out the paperwork by hand if she changed her name afterward." Castle continued._

"_Right," Kate agreed, still not seeing where he was headed._

"_And then some underpaid clerk would input all those forms, deciphering the handwriting and potentially making mistakes."_

"_That's why all city offices keep hard copies of everything," she said as understanding dawned. "We need to check them before we give up."_

"_Exactly."_

"_Okay. Ryan, you and Espo need to keep following this from the other end. Start with Lisa's last know location and try to see if you can find a paper trail that would connect her with a new name. Castle, you're with me. Up for a trip to city hall?"_

"_I thought you'd never ask."_

_A half an hour later, Castle was watching as Beckett stood in front of a records clerk and tried once again to get some cooperation. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line and her fingers were softly drumming against the counter, beating out her irritation. Castle thought the clerk must be the most oblivious person he had ever met because Beckett was not enjoying the message she was receiving and was glaring at the clerk as if she planned on shooting the messenger. He, however, was still insisting that they needed to fill out a sheaf of forms in triplicate before the records would be retrieved._

"_And how long will that take?" she asked through gritted teeth._

"_Our usual turn around is one to two weeks," the clerk answered blithely._

"_What part of my being a homicide detective working on a murder case did you not understand?" she growled back._

"_You could always search the online records if you need the information sooner," the clerk proffered helpfully._

_Kate made a noise that might have qualified as a screech of frustration had it been any louder, and Castle knew it was time to intervene. Holding up a hand to forestall her next acerbic comment, he slid up to the counter and leaned in towards the clerk, a few bills folded between his fingers. "Perhaps we just haven't given you the right incentive?"_

_The clerk took the money and tucked it into his front pocket. "It's quiet right now, I guess I could have a quick look if you gave me the name you need."_

"_Thank you," Castle said. Then he plucked the list of names from Beckett's hand and passed it across the counter._

_The clerk took one look at the list and slapped it back down onto the counter. "I thought you needed one name. I can't help you find a dozen - that could take hours."_

"_But you took my money," Castle protested indignantly._

"_What money," the clerk shot back, an innocent expression on his face. "I couldn't accept any money, that would be a bribe."_

"_Why you …" Castle growled as he nearly leaped across the counter. It was unclear whether he was going for the clerk, or merely trying to retrieve his money from the man's shirt pocket, but Kate didn't wait to find out. A quick grab for Castle's coat and she easily hauled him back over to their side of the divider._

_The clerk, however, appeared to rethink his position. "I guess I could let you guys into the records room to search for yourselves. In the interest of helping the police and all that."_

"_Fine," said Kate. "Just take us there."_

Now it was time for the file room … or in this case, the records hall. And given what he had planned, this time Castle was sure he would never fall asleep ...

_When the door to the cavernous room clanged shut behind them, Kate turned to Castle and rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you paid that worm. I could have gotten a subpoena."_

_He surveyed the long rows of shelves, each one filled with boxes, and sighed. "I can't believe I paid him for the opportunity to do the job by ourselves. Would you look at all of this, we'll never find the papers."_

"_He said everything was sorted first by year and then alphabetically. Let's find the right section and get to work."_

"_Yeah, wouldn't want my investment to be wasted."_

_And it wasn't, at least not in his mind. The records room was as silent and private as a deserted library and they chatted quietly while they paged through the boxes. Books they had recently read, a movie he thought she should see, his mother's ever expanding drama school … inconsequential subjects but exactly the sort of shared information that binds two lives together. This, he thought, this is what I picture. Conversations over breakfast and dinner, or more intimately, in bed before sleep. An easy flow of words and silences, talk of nothing that somehow still manages to communicate everything. This is how it could be … someday._

_The pleasure of this quiet time together almost made up for the fact that so far they had failed to unearthed the name they were looking for. But neither one of them was willing to give up just yet. _

_Castle checked the list and scanned the labels on the boxes in front of them. "Damn, it looks like the next one is on the top shelf."_

_One glance was enough to tell that neither one of them would be able to reach those uppermost files._

"_I think I saw a ladder over in the next aisle," Kate told him before heading off to fetch it._

_The piece of equipment that she brought back, a metal, three step, library ladder that was missing one of its rolling feet, looked far from sturdy._

"_Here, let me," Castle offered chivalrously after she placed the ladder beneath the boxes they needed to reach. However, as soon as he put his full weight on the steps, the ladder creaked ominously and began to list to one side._

"_Castle, get off before you break it."_

_He didn't need to be told twice, leaping off before it could collapse underneath him and eying it skeptically. "That thing is a deathtrap."_

"_Hardly. It's only four feet high."_

"_Doesn't matter if you land wrong," he said dramatically._

Damn. Why did he seem to keep making himself look like a fool … except he probably would say something like that, and Beckett would get that look on her face. The one that let him know just how ridiculous she found him. And then she would say ...

"_Sometimes you are such a sissy. I'm going up, I weigh less and it should hold me." Castle looked at her dubiously, gaining himself a shake of her head. "I'll be fine ... you can spot me if it makes you feel better."_

_Kate climbed up the ladder and began rifling through the boxes. It looked as though most of them hadn't been disturbed in years and they were coated with a thick layer of dust. At first she had no luck but about halfway through the second box she gave a small cry of triumph and pulled out a slim manila folder. Unfortunately, the motion dislodged a fresh cloud of dust, making her sneeze violently. Her sudden motion rocked her flimsy perch and she windmilled an arm in an attempt to keep her balance. Alarmed, Castle reached up to steady her, his hand finding skin where her shirt had ridden up. She felt a jolt of electricity at the touch of his fingers against her bare flank, and her unconscious twitch was just enough to finally tip the ladder past the point of no return. Suddenly, she was tumbling sideways. Castle tried to break her fall but she had too much momentum and the next thing he knew, they were collapsed together in a pile on the floor._

_Castle let out a sharp breath when his backside thumped onto the cold linoleum. He had lifted his head enough to keep his skull from getting a serious knock and he had also managed to hold onto Beckett and spare her from the worst of their landing. In fact, he was still holding on to her as he got his breath back, slowly realizing just where his hands had ended up. She was sprawled on top of him and his hands, which had reached for her waist when he went to steady her, had slid upward during their tumble, dragging her shirt along with them, so that they now spanned her bare ribcage, one thumb brushing up against the bottom of the soft, satin covered curve of her breast._

_As yet unaware of their rather compromising position, Kate squirmed on top of him as she struggled to free her legs from the twisted remains of the ladder. Her movements were only tantalizing him further. If she didn't stop it soon, he might remain prone, but certain other parts of his anatomy were quite determined to get up. She chose that moment to twist around in a particularly delicious way and he couldn't prevent a small groan from escaping him._

_The noise caught her attention and she stilled, looking down at him through a curtain of her hair. Her eyes widened. "Castle, is that …"_

"_No … no, it must be your gun."_

"_I'm wearing an ankle holster."_

_And there was nothing, really, that he could say to that so he just laid there, fluctuating wildly between the ecstasy of holding her and a not entirely unrealistic fear that she might just kill him where he lay. But the thing was, he could feel her heart racing under his fingertips, and her breath hitching in what seemed a lot like a pleasurable gasp, and she hadn't yet scrambled off of him, so maybe …_

"_Castle, you can let go of me now."_

_And then, because his brain was just so overloaded as it tried to process all the sensations, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Why?"_

"Richaaard. Are you home, darling?" Martha called out as soon as she entered the loft.

Castle was so fully invested in what he was writing that he actually jumped at the sound of her voice. He thought for a moment about simply ignoring her in the hope of finishing his scene undisturbed but he could tell from her tone that she wanted something and he knew from experience that she would not go quietly until she got it. Better to get it over with now, so he shut his laptop and after taking a moment to steady his breathing, stuck his head out of his office door.

"I'm working, mother." Which was definitely not quite the truth.

"Oh well," she said with a tone that seemed anything but resigned to his unavailability. "I guess I'll have to do without you."

Castle felt a slight twinge of remorse for exaggerating the nature of his activities. "Do what without me?"

"Nevermind. You just go on with your work."

"Thank you, I will."

"I'm sure my acting school will get by just fine without any more donations. I always say, 'where there's a will there's a way.'"

"Actually, I can't remember you ever saying that. When it comes to aphorisms, 'It's five o'clock somewhere,' has always seemed more your style."

"Yes, darling, but that would be because you sometimes drive me to drink."

Although he knew she was only joking, Castle's guilty conscience finally got the better of him. 'A break might do me good. What do you need?"

"Do you remember Marjorie? She was one of the sponsors of that Edward Albee revival I was in last year."

"Older woman - pink hair, huge pearls?"

"Richard, her hair is not pink." Castle just raised his eyebrows. "Well, perhaps that particular shade of red was an unfortunate choice but it's not important. What is important is that she has some friends who might be interested in supporting the arts through my school. Friends that are fans of your work, and I might have promised the pleasure of your company for drinks."

"You do realize you're using your son like some trained chimp performing for handouts?"

"Well …"

"No, don't answer that." Then he went to the closet to get his coat. "One drink, singular. That's all you get."

"I can always count on you, kiddo."

As he headed out the door, Castle glanced at his watch. He could spare an hour and still finish the chapter in time to post it later tonight. Now the only question was if he could keep his anticipation of the conclusion in check long enough to make it through the cocktails.

* * *

><p>With her paperwork mostly finished and no new murders on the horizon, Kate spent the afternoon looking over a few older, cold cases, but her mind kept wandering. She always felt this way after one of her nightmares, foggy and a little bit shaky, as if all the strength had been sapped out of her, but rather than examine that more closely, she simply chalked it up to fatigue and kept plugging away.<p>

Finally, it was the end of her shift and she could head home where she had already determined that a long, hot soak and an early night would set her to rights again. And maybe, if she was very lucky, another chapter of Velvet Heat for a bedtime story.

Her hopes were dashed when she checked her email and saw no new story alerts. It seemed she would have to do without her fan fiction fix tonight. Maybe it was just as well, she seemed to be verging awfully close to obsession when it came to this story. Shaking off her disappointment, she went on with her plans, putting a pre-made casserole in the oven to heat before drawing a bath and pouring herself a glass of wine. Soak, eat, sleep and she would be a new person in the morning, all thoughts of a fictional life in some parallel universe tucked away.

And she did feel better, but when her laptop let out the little ping that indicated a new email, it didn't matter that it was ten o'clock and she had already crawled into bed. Before she could think twice she had gotten back up and grabbed it off her bureau, flipping it open and scanning her inbox. A smile spread across her face as she saw the new alert and she carried the computer over to her bed, only pausing long enough to pull the covers snugly around herself before diving into the story.

She smiled at the banter that the author created so easily and chuckled outright at Castle's reaction to the clerk's duplicity. And then she reached the scene in the records room. She was mesmerized as she read, completely unaware that her lower lip had slid between her teeth and she was very nearly holding her breath in anticipation.

… _And then, because his brain was just so overloaded as it tried to process all the sensations, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Why?"_

_Kate opened up her mouth to come back with an acerbic reply. A reply that should have been self evident given that they were lying on a floor in city hall, and unless she was mistaken, she could feel Castle's hands against her bare skin, hands that were, in fact, doing something that was dangerously close to caressing her. She should have stopped him. Unfortunately, the only sound that came from between her parted lips was a soft exhalation that might have been a moan._

_And then his fingers moved again, one thumb reaching up to brush across her breast, and all her reasons for stopping ran right out of her mind, leaving only the echo of Castle's questioning "Why?" and the part of her that answered "Why not." Slowly, so very slowly, she lowered her head towards him, her hair falling around their faces like a curtain, until the only thing she could see was his familiar face and his blue eyes, their pupils darkened with desire, pulling her in like a magnet._

_Castle was stunned motionless. A few moments ago he had unthinkingly opened his mouth and said something that, by rights, should have resulted finding his ear pinched between Beckett's thumb and finger, but instead it looked remarkably like she was about to kiss him. And then, before he knew it, she was kissing him, her lips brushing softly against his own, her movements tentative and unsure. He knew he should stay still, that any movement might frighten this new, and to his mind, much improved Beckett away. Or perhaps he should be checking her for injuries because surely, the only explanation for her reaction was some sort of brain injury. Beckett did not kiss him, at least not of her own volition._

_But then her lips continued to explore his own, and ohmygod, she was actually nibbling at his lower lip, and all thoughts of self preservation were drowned out by the desire for more. He reached one hand around her back to cradle her closer, his fingers playing gently up and down her spine. His other hand slid up to cup her breast, a shiver running through him as he felt her nipple harden under his palm, and rather than slap him, she gasped, her fingers tightening on his shoulder. He slid his tongue between her lips and she tasted like heaven, like pure bliss, and he almost thought he could hear …_

… _The rattle of a documents cart as some faceless clerk rolled it down the aisles towards their hiding place._

_In the blink of an eye, his arms were empty and Beckett was on her feet, straightening her shirt and brushing the dust off her pants._

"_Castle, get up!" she hissed at him._

_He clambered to his feet, stumbling a bit on legs still shaky with surprise and his mind reeling as it replayed the last few seconds. He gave her a questioning look. "Beckett … Kate, what just …"_

"_Not now."_

_Then, on the theory that it had worked just moments before, he uttered one word. "When?"_

_And learned the true meaning of that old phrase, "if looks could kill," when she skewered him with a sharp glance and stalked off down the aisle, Lisa Bacho's file gripped between her fingers. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to compose himself, then followed her._

_Apparently, the answer was … not now._

When the chapter ended, Kate found herself staring at the screen in a daze. She gave her head a little shake to clear her mind and realized that her free hand had been creeping over to the empty side of the bed, as if in search of some sort of comfort there. She clenched her fingers and drew the offending limb back to her side.

Pressing her lips together in disgust at her weakness, she closed the computer and shut off her bedside lamp, snuggling down under the covers and trying to make her mind as blank as the darkness in her bedroom. It didn't work. Scenes from the story invaded her imagination … because she _knew_ what it felt like to kiss him. And she _knew_ the look he would have when she stopped. And although she would never admit it out loud, when the clerk in the story had intruded into their interlude, she had been ready to scream.

Wait. There was no _their _about this interlude_. _It was a story. Sure, it used their real names, but it was no more real than the Nikki Heat tales that Castle published. So why had it gotten so far into her psyche? She had read, and in the case of certain scenes, reread, all of Castle's books, but even with the knowledge that _he_ had written them, they had never effected her in this way. They had never made her forget that they were fiction and started to feel like a mirror held up to her life.

Perhaps it was just the eerie similarity to her days and the author's preternatural knowledge about the doings of the 12th precinct. Of course, the fact that she had surprised Castle down in the records room, and that case where they had taken a tumble that he had found just a bit too enjoyable were just random coincidences. Even details like Castle's love of comics and their recent superhero case could be explained away.

Back when Nikki Heat first brought her into the public eye, she had succumbed to the temptation and Googled herself, only to be shocked and horrified by the wealth of information available. Everything from gossip columns focusing on Castle himself, to mentions in the crime blotter sections of the papers were out there in the ether and every new detail was passed around avidly via twitter, facebook and fan sites. Her life, at least most of it, had become not an open book, but certainly one you wouldn't have trouble reading if you tried hard enough.

That was all it was. The author had made a few lucky guesses and a couple of inspired leaps and managed to make her take it all too seriously. No doubt, the next few chapters, while enjoyable, would finally hit some wrong notes and she would once again be able to find her distance. After all, it was only a story.

Satisfied with her explanation, she finally closed her eyes and drifted off … a small smile gracing her sleeping face as dreams of Castle continued to fill her night.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N So I found some internet and you're getting this update a little earlier than promised (but also a little shorter than the last one). Anyway, enjoy, and know that I am home for the next week or two so I should be a bit more regular about posting as soon as I recover from this trip.**_

* * *

><p><em><em>By the time she woke the next morning Kate felt much better and all her worries about the stories had faded. In fact, she felt like she had had one of her best nights in recent memory, as far as she could remember, her sleep had been dreamless and deep.

Now that she had it all in perspective, she had no problem logging onto the fanfiction site to leave her new favorite author another review. In between sips of coffee, she quoted her favorite parts and complimented the writer on the authenticity of the dialog. She almost left it at that, hesitating with her fingers poised over the keyboard before adding one last paragraph.

_Of course, the very best part was the ending. Or maybe I should say it was the very worst part because if he wasn't just a fictional character, I swear I could have done some damage to that file clerk who interrupted them. Talk about bad timing. Oh well, my hopes will remain high that you will finally find a way to get them together in the end._

She hit the button to send it on its way and turned her attention back to her breakfast. But then, just before she was about to take her mug back to her bedroom to dress for the day, her email notification pinged. She sat back down on the edge of her chair to take a quick look and found that it was from the author. She must have been lucky enough to catch them at their computer.

_I don't know about timing, but did you really expect me to have them throw down on a dirty floor … in public?_ _Glad you're enjoying the story and don't worry, I have plans for these two._

Kate smiled at the reply and shot one of her own back again.

_Okay, you do have a point, the dirty floor is less than appealing, but I'm sure the walls were less dusty. Just sayin'. _Then she bit her lip for a moment, reminded herself that she was totally anonymous, and hit send.

The reply came back almost immediately. _Aren't you the naughty one. I'll see if I can get them to oblige you at some point later on but you will have to wait patiently for now._

Kate chuckled, she really did enjoy the freedom that fandom permitted her. _Patience is not one of my virtues but as long as I know that you are forging valiantly onward I think I will survive. So what are you waiting for? Get forging._

As soon as she sent this last reply, her quiet morning was interrupted by the sharp buzz of her phone. "Beckett here," she answered after seeing that the call originated at the precinct. "What have you got Javi?"

She listened to him explain the details of the latest body to fall under their purview, asked a few questions and then told him she would be on her way in ten. With a last look at her laptop and a quick shake of her head, she got back to her real life and the all too real dead body waiting for her.

* * *

><p><em>Get forging. <em>Castle chuckled at the vehemence, but it was a compliment that his fan fiction readers were so anxious to get more of his story. He had really enjoyed his little exchange with Doublevision, she seemed like quite a character and he appreciated her thoughtful review. He also appreciated the direction she wanted the tale to go, after all, that was his main reason for writing it in the first place.

There was, however, something oddly familiar about the syntax of her last message. Like verbal deja vu, the words seemed somehow familiar. He ran through the list of anyone he knew who might be frequenting a fan fiction site - agents, editors, or more likely, a friend of Martha or Alexis. Finally he gave up, he knew he'd heard something like it somewhere recently, but damned if he could remember when or where. For all he knew, he was the one who said it, although how strange would that be, to have a fan unknowingly quoting him back at himself.

Nevermind, he thought, it's not as if they know who I am. Then he grabbed a notecard and jotted "sex against a wall" on it and added it to the Velvet Heat pile. He liked Doublevision and would oblige her if he could, it was not as though it would be a hardship for his imagination.

He knew he ought to be working on the next Nikki Heat novel, and he had been doing just that, catching up by blocking out a fight scene since early this morning. But there was nothing he hated more than that sort of blocking, a tedious exercise since he was far from an expert at martial arts which meant the process involved deciding who was where at any given moment and then throwing around a few of the combat terms he kept in a file for just this purpose. All of this reminded him that he had asked Javier if he would give him a few self defense lessons one day in the hope that actually utilizing a few of the moves he was writing about would add a layer of authenticity to these segments. It would be a bonus if it made writing them less of a chore.

But now, his conversation with Doublevision had made him want to go back to Velvet Heat. And the idea of a defensive training session had provided him with a solution to a plot point. He sat staring at the screen for a moment, attempting to exercise some self control, then he gave up and opened the file he had labeled simply _Hot_.

It took only a page or two before he and Beckett (character him and character Beckett - it was just that the further the story progressed, the harder a time he had keeping the two separate in his head) had followed the trail of clues that led to the discovery that Johnny Bacho's estranged wife, who was now going by the name Lisa Ricco, and their child had been missing from their Mahwah, New Jersey home for several days.

That information, he reasoned, when combined with the suspect's connection to one of the victims, would be more than enough for a search warrant. Now all he needed was to find a way to send Ryan and Esposito elsewhere ...

_Ryan looked up from his computer. "So, our guy, Bacho has an apartment over on East 4th Street, and an auto body shop on Delancey."_

_"I'll call the judge. As soon as we get warrants, we'll hit both places at once. You and Espo take the shop and Castle and I will cover the apartment."_

_Kate had found one advantage to her notoriety, she no longer needed Castle to get special service from the judges. In less than an hour, she had both warrants in hand and they were on their way._

_Bacho's building was an older, brick walkup, two apartments to a floor with an additional one in a basement that also housed storage and a mechanical room. Bacho's digs turned out to be the basement unit which was accessed from a small, dark foyer that smelled of mildew and old Chinese takeout._

_Castle could feel the familiar excitement, tinged with apprehension ever since Beckett's shooting had reminded him of their mortality, in the pounding of his heart underneath his vest. He knew she would be feeling the same thing, but it was nothing to worry about, the adrenaline would only make them sharper._

_Beckett rapped hard on the wooden door. "NYPD, open up." When there was no reply, she nodded at Castle to indicate that he should stand to one side._

Castle stopped typing for a moment. He really, really wanted to try kicking in a door himself. He knew that, in real life, Beckett would never let him, but this was his story and a good door bashing was the least of the liberties he planned on taking.

_"Wait," he whispered as Beckett turned sideways and readied her booted foot. "Let me ... please." She rolled her eyes at him but he persisted. "I've always wanted to, and besides, it's not like we think he's in there."_

_"Okay, fine. Have at it if it's that important to you."_

_His face lit with a gleeful grin, Castle stepped back and then, with his best approximation of a martial arts battle cry, he slammed his foot into the wood ... and started hopping up and down holding his knee. "Ow, ow, ow ... I think the damn thing must have steel plates in it."_

_Beckett had to struggle to keep from laughing. "You've got to hit it right where the locks are, Castle." _

_"And you couldn't tell me this before I tried to break my leg?"_

_"What fun would that be?" Then she knocked the door from its frame with one blow._

Castle chuckled to himself. Just because he wanted to kick a door in didn't mean he had any illusions about the likelihood of him succeeding. Doing it in fiction was both less embarrassing and far less painful, while still being almost as much fun.

_Castle hovered behind Beckett as she took up a Weaver stance and proceeded to clear the empty rooms. Living room, kitchen, bath, a bedroom, and finally another room that had probably started life as a second bedroom but had now been turned into a rather messy office. Once they had established that there was no one home, Beckett reholstered her weapon and they both pulled on blue latex gloves before starting to search._

"_I'll work on his desk, why don't you head into the bedroom next door," she suggested before bending over the desk and starting to rifle through the papers on it._

_He nodded and was about to leave when a muffled cry, just barely on the edge of audibility, sounded from somewhere in the walls. "Did you hear that?" he asked._

"_Hear what?"_

"_I could have sworn I heard something from over there, like it came from the wall."_

"_I think that wall backs up to the storage rooms, there's probably someone down there," she told him without looking up from her search._

_Castle's brow wrinkled. She was probably right, but something still bothered him. Now if only he could figure out what. He had just started to step over towards the wall to investigate further when with a grating screech of hinges, a portion of the wall moved and a shadowed figure surged through the gap. He had just enough time to register a metallic glint in the figure's hand before he launched himself at it, deflecting the assailant away from Beckett, who had not had time to clear her gun from its holster._

_The figure scrambled back to its feet, and they could see that it was a white male who bore a perfect resemblance to their suspect, Johnny Bacho. Without bothering to attempt another attack, Bacho ran out the door, with Beckett and Castle in hot pursuit._

_They skidded through the apartment, gaining on Bacho but not reaching him until just after he had shot through the front door. Finally, Beckett tackled him, bringing him down in the dingy, downstairs vestibule._

_"Castle, hand me my cuffs," she said as she struggled to hold down their prone suspect. She was so intent on restraining the perp that at first she didn't notice the blood. It was only after she had snapped the cuffs closed that she looked down and saw the bright smear of red on her hand. As she automatically checked her prisoner over for the source of the bleeding she heard Castle groan and then a soft thump as he slid down the wall to a sitting position._

_She spun around with a gasp. "Castle! Are you okay?" she asked, struggling to keep the panic out of her voice. She saw the blood spreading across his shirt and frantically replayed the last few minutes. The suspect leaping out from his hiding place, the brief glint of silver as Castle shoved him out of the way before he could blindside her, the short-lived struggle on the floor before Bacho gained his feet. She wasn't sure how it had happened, but the sight of his injury made her gut flutter in panic._

_"Oh God, Castle, I didn't know he got you." She reached for him, her heart pounding as he sorrowfully spread open the gash in his shirt and, underneath it, his superhero costume. Her hand shook as she grasped his shoulder, sure that she was watching his lifeblood spill out in this dank hallway._

_He looked up at her. "I'm fine, but I don't think the Blue Avenger is going to survive this one," he said sadly as he continued to assess the damage to his recent acquisition._

_She would have swatted him then, but the relief coursing through her veins left her unable to do more than hold his shoulders with her still shaking fingers and stare at him. He finally finished his inspection of his ruined superhero suit and looked up at her. _

_"Kate," he said gently, "I'm okay. It's nothing, just a scratch."_

_She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and shook her head. "Please tell me you haven't been wearing that thing every day._

"_Of course not. Every other day I leave it home to be washed."_

_"You're incorrigible."_

_"I try."_

_She pasted a severe look on her face. "Castle, what part of observe do you not understand? I am the cop. I go after the suspects, and superhero costume or not, you stay out of the way in the interest of not scaring me to death."_

_"Not a chance. We're partners, remember."_

_At his words, she bit her lip and her fingers fisted in his shirt as if she was still too afraid to let go. _

_He watched her cautiously. "Kate …" he started to say._

_She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her hands fall back to her sides. She knew he was right, they were partners, and she had come to depend on him in a way she never had with anyone else. That was why the thought of losing him frightened her so badly ..._

This was clearly a _moment,_ and the anticipation had Castle so worked up that he was almost tempted to have them go at it right there in the hall. Except somehow, making out in a dirty apartment building with the suspect lying a few feet away seemed rather less than romantic. And then there was the fact that he was bleeding … or at least imaginary Castle was bleeding. Anyway, there was all that blood and unless he wanted imaginary Beckett to have a _True Blood _moment (he was pretty sure he'd once seen a vampire-Beckett story, but in his opinion she was scary and tantalizing enough without the addition of fangs) it might be best to let them clean up a bit … and maybe find a bed, or a couch, or heck, if Doublevision had her way, even a clean wall would be better than their current surroundings.

Besides, there were still a few things to wrap up with the case and the repercussions of this little scare to deal with.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the delay but this chapter was whipping my ass. I do not do angst well, or with any degree of confidence, but i needed a dose of it here. Anyway, I probably should have hung onto this for a while longer to edit it better but after staring at it since Sunday, I just wanted it out the door. I apologize in advance for any of the completely avoidable mistakes you may find.**

* * *

><p>Kate waited to call Castle until she was almost to the murder scene. The body had been found in a vacant lot behind a car wash on Sixth Avenue, just seven or eight blocks from his loft, and even though she thought she had him well trained by now, she still wasn't completely comfortable having him arrive at a crime scene unattended. You just never knew when his inner child might get curious and start poking around where it shouldn't. And then there was her real reason. Thanks to her morning dialog with Alteredego, she was getting an uncharacteristically late start and showing up after Castle might just lead to some questions she'd rather not have to answer.<p>

She needn't have worried.

His phone rang almost long enough to go to voice mail before he answered. "Did I wake you from your beauty sleep, Castle?" she asked.

"Uh, no," he said, sounding slightly disoriented. "I just ... was working - didn't notice it at first."

"Well, we've got a new body. Sixth and Sullivan, almost in your neighborhood."

"Mystery vic?"

"No ... looks like a pop and drop and the perp took the cash and cards but left the ID. Why?"

"Our vic wearing anything interesting?"

"Define interesting."

"Period costume, a Donald Duck suit … edible underwear."

"I can't vouch for the underwear, but Espo said he looked like a tourist who got caught unaware."

"Hmm. What about the murder weapon?"

"What about it?" By now Kate was thoroughly confused and more than a little suspicious. Normally when she said they had a body, he just asked where and got on his way.

"Was he killed with anything fun? Elephant rifle, boomerang, death ray …"

"No! We ever get a murder by death ray, I'm pretty sure that's the first thing I'd tell you. This was a garden variety GSW."

"In that case, I think I'll pass … if you don't mind, that is."

By now her radar was on full alert. Castle never passed up a case, but what could she say? It wasn't as if this was his real job. "Um, yeah. That's fine."

"Great. It's just that I'm on a roll here and it doesn't sound like a case that would benefit from my talents anyway."

"And what talents would those be?" she asked, and then looked at her phone in surprise. He had hung up without even hearing her last comment.

Something was definitely up and Kate was almost positive it had to do with all the phone texting he had been doing lately. A sharp stab of jealousy flared in her gut, but she tamped it down. She had arrived at the scene and any worries over Castle would have to wait until a later time. A time by which she would hopefully have convinced herself that she had no right to feel the way she did and would be able to forget all about it.

* * *

><p>Castle put down his phone and turned back to his computer. He did feel a little bad about copping out on the case, but he told himself it sounded like a mundane murder and he would really only be in the way. Besides, the words were flowing and he was finally starting to get to the meat of his story. Surely that was worth ditching the NYPD for a day - even if it was just fan fiction.<p>

Okay, fine, it probably wasn't, but he had finally figured out how to make Beckett come around. Fictional Beckett that is, he still had no idea what to do with the real thing. Right now, that was just much more appealing than hanging out in some late winter drizzle looking at the result of an everyday mugging.

There was still quite a bit of story to get through before he reached the pivotal moment so he flexed his fingers and got back to what he was calling work these days …

_Beckett couldn't take the intensity of the moment, it seemed to demand something of her that she still didn't feel ready to give, so she backed away, a shutter closing over her expression. Before Castle could do anything to rescue the situation, they both heard a noise from back in the apartment._

"_What was that?" he asked, temporarily distracted._

"_I don't know … it sounded like someone trying to call out."_

_She got to her feet, gave one last check to see that Bacho was immobilized, and headed back through the busted apartment door. Castle pulled the edges of his ruined shirt together with a grimace, wiped his bloody hands on his pants, and followed her. They proceeded cautiously through the rooms, already having been surprised once, until they reached the room where Bacho had ambushed them. The panel behind which he had been hiding was still ajar and it was clear the sounds were coming from that direction. _

_Gun drawn and braced above her maglight, Beckett swiveled into the space and found a narrow hallway between the panelled divider and what had been the original wall of the room. Near one end of the claustrophobic space, a crude door had been cut into the wall. When she pushed it open with her foot and shone the light inside, she let out a gasp of surprise. It opened onto a small cinderblock room that had been outfitted as a rudimentary living space, and tied up on the bed were Lisa Ricco and her son._

_Beckett lowered her gun. "NYPD, it's okay. We're here to help you."_

_The woman struggled against her restraints and tried to speak through the duct tape across her mouth. Castle reached out, and with a quick apology for the fact that it would hurt, pulled it away from her lips while Beckett went to work on the lengths that were wrapped around her wrists and ankles. As soon as she was free, they turned their attention to the young boy who was still regarding them with fear filled eyes. The moment he was loose, he flung himself into his mother's arms and began to sob softly._

"_Johnny? Did you catch Johnny?" Lisa asked anxiously._

"_Yes," Beckett answered. "We got him."_

"_Oh, thank God," Lisa said with obvious relief. Then she looked at Castle's bloody shirt, which was blooming with a fresh flow of red. "You're bleeding. Did he do that?"_

_Beckett swiveled around to look at him herself. "Castle, you said it was only a scratch."_

_He held up a hand to forestall her. "Okay, so I lied, but only a little. It isn't serious, I promise."_

_She pushed his hands away and inspected the gash more closely. "This needs stitches." Then she pulled out her radio. "This is Detective Beckett, I have a suspect in custody and three victims in need of medical attention," she said over Castle's protests. "I need backup and two buses. 336 East Sixth Street."_

_Fifteen minutes later, Castle was on his way to the hospital without ever having a chance to talk to Beckett about just what had passed between them in the hallway. Thanks to his semi-official law enforcement status, he was taken straight in to be treated. Eleven stitches, which he endured with a stoic grimace (and the help of lots of lidocaine), and one tetanus shot later (during which he squeaked like a girl), he was finally released with a script for some antibiotics and the advice to take some OTC pain meds for a few days._

_No sooner had he walked back out into the waiting room than a red-headed whirlwind launched itself at him. "Dad! I was so worried." Alexis leaned back from her hug and gave him a stern gaze. "I thought you said you were going to be more careful?"_

"_I'm fine, sweetheart. Really. It was nothing." Then he looked over her head and caught his mother's eye. "Who told you?" he asked._

"_Detective Beckett called. She knew you wouldn't and she didn't want us to get worried when your phone was off while you were here." She held up a garment bag. "She also said you'd need some fresh clothes."_

"_Well, thanks for coming, and for the clothes. I'll let you guys take the car home. I can just catch a cab back to the precinct after I change."_

"_Not a chance, kiddo. Your Detective also gave us strict instructions to take you straight home. And I, for one, am not inclined to cross her."_

_He opened up his mouth to protest, but Alexis tugged firmly on his hand. "Home, dad. Now."_

This was not, of course, how Castle had originally envisioned the story progressing. When he started writing this he had planned on having this little incident be the catalyst for Beckett finally acknowledging her feelings. But the closer he got to this point, the more sure he became that that would never happen - at least not like this. Beckett had too many years of practice locking dangerous emotions deep inside during times of stress for her to cave in this way. He knew his readers wouldn't be happy, but the more he wrote, the more sure he became that imaginary Castle's injury would most likely push her even farther away, at least at first ...

_Beckett spent the rest of the day in a fog, going through the motions of closing the case with little real memory of her actions, her mind a jumble of emotions as the implications of Castle's close call, and her reaction, sank in. Fortunately, with the perp in custody and his wife and son able to provide details, she didn't need her concentration, but that didn't stop her from realizing that this situation couldn't go on. She needed to resolve her feelings or she would be the next one to get hurt._

_It was the nightmare that finally decided her._

_She woke up at three AM, drenched in a cold sweat, with visions of Castle bleeding out in front of her as she tried to close his wound with her hands. Given her sleep history since her own shooting, she was not all that surprise to have her slumber interrupted this way. No, what really bothered her were the fragments of her dream that her mind dredged up once she was awake. Fragments where she was the one wielding the knife that cut him, foggy glimpses of the hurt and confusion on his face when she did it._

_She didn't know whether it was residual guilt over his injury that made her mind take this tack, or if it was a more Freudian representation of her fears over the fallout a relationship could have, but to her, the answer was clear. She needed some distance … not just for her sanity, but also for his own safety. She was just not ready, but she was damned if she would let her own shortcomings harm him in any way. He deserved better than that … and maybe, better than her._

_Needless to say, she didn't get back to sleep that night, but sat on her couch, wrapped in a blanket that failed to dispel the chill of her misery and waited until it was a decent enough hour to contact Castle. She knew she should call him in person, but she just couldn't face hearing the disappointment in his voice, so she resorted to a text._

_**Why don't you take the next few days off to recover.**_

_He must have been waiting to hear from her because he texted her right back. __**No need, at least as long as you don't want any more demonstrations of my ninja skills. Those might be a bit uncomfortable until the stitches come out.**_

_She grimaced at his inability to take a hint. __**Really, there's nothing for you to do. Take it easy for a bit - I'm sure Alexis would appreciate it.**_

_Castle wasn't stupid, he knew when he was getting the brush off, although he did think it was a low blow to bring his daughter into it. Well, he wasn't above wheedling if he had to. __**I'll do your paperwork **__…_

_Beckett closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There was no help for it, she would have to be blunt. __**I mean it. I think a little break would do us good right now. I'll call you.**_

_No, Castle thought, this was not going to happen again, especially since he was pretty sure he wouldn't survive it a second time. __**Where have I heard that before?**_

_She bit her lip. __**I'll call. **__Then she flipped her phone shut and ignored the insistent buzzing as he tried to reach her._

_**Beckett.**_

_**Kate.**_

_**Damn it, Kate. Answer the phone.**_

_**Please **__…_

_He finally gave up, not at all surprised to find that, in this instance, she was determined to be as stubborn and wrongheaded as she always was whenever her boundaries were threatened. He would, yet again, give her the space she asked for but this time it would be on his terms. Three days, that was all she would get. Not a week, not a month, and certainly not the three months he suffered through last summer. Three days and then he would make himself unavoidable, whether she liked it or not._

Castle had debated for a while about that penultimate line. He liked the symmetry of the progression from three days to three months but he worried that he was revealing too much. Then he remembered how painful it had been to read all the online speculation and gossip rag items about Beckett's absence and his ban from the precinct while he struggled through their separation. No, the fans couldn't know for sure, but they certainly might be likely to make an educated guess about his and Beckett's time apart. Anyway, it was staying ...

_Whatever peace Beckett had hoped for when she banned Castle from the precinct, she wasn't finding it. Not only were Esposito and Ryan continuing to give her worried looks, even after she gave them the perfectly reasonable excuse of his injury, but Castle had become such a part of the fabric of her life that every time she turned around there was something that brought him to mind. Each time she had to grit her teeth and force herself to focus on something else._

_She thought she was succeeding. Then, after a few days, she started getting the texts._

_**74 hours, 29 minutes, 42 seconds and counting …**_

_**75 hours, 12 minutes, 19 seconds and counting …**_

_**76 hours, 49 minutes, 3 seconds and counting …**_

_**77 hours, 31 minutes, 56 seconds and counting …**_

_**Just so you know, I can keep doing this all day … and all night. So call me.**_

_**78 hours, 13 minutes, 7 seconds and counting …**_

_**You know you're going to give in eventually so why not get it over with … call me. You can always kill me afterwards.**_

_**79 hours, 17 minutes and 22 seconds and counting …**_

_**Please Kate, I'm dying here …**_

_**Call me - or you'll have to explain some truly ridiculous text overages to Captain Gates.**_

_**80 hours, 24 minutes, 33 seconds and counting …**_

_**I don't know what I did, but whatever it is, I am heartily sorry. Please call me.**_

_True to his word, he kept it up all day and into the evening, alternating between silly, pitiful and simply persistent. She tried to ignore them, but despite her best intentions, each time her phone buzzed, she had to look. And each time, another piece of her heart broke away. Why couldn't he understand she was doing this for his own good?_

_By the time five o'clock rolled around, she was twitching every time she felt her phone vibrate. The ride home on her bike gave her a short stretch of blessed peace but then she was home, and alone. Her dinner sat uneaten on the table, his constant barrage stealing her appetite. Eight o'clock found her sitting cross-legged on her couch, her phone in her lap and tears streaming down her face as he played out their entire relationship, text by text._

* * *

><p>Back at the precinct after clearing their latest crime scene, the real Kate wasn't doing a whole lot better. Castle's absence gnawed at her, various scenarios and explanations playing out in her head even though she thought she knew the answer. He had found someone else. What other reason could there be for him to miss a case, especially when you added in the way he'd been obsessively checking his phone and his recent fatigue. A fatigue that no doubt stemmed from late nights with a new significant other.<p>

He had said he'd wait for her, but he hadn't. He had said always, but now it seemed that always was over.

She finally made it through her day and went home to a dinner that tasted like sand in her mouth and an apartment whose empty spaces rang with loneliness. This was what she could look forward to from here on out. Then her email pinged with the notification of another chapter of _Velvet Heat_. Well, she thought, she might have lost out on any chance of a real life relationship with Castle, but she could at least read about a fictional one. It was all the solace she was likely to get.

Except this chapter was more than a little short on solace. In fact, continuing its eerie parallel to her life, it had taken a sharp left turn into angst. Still, Kate read on … right up to the part where the texts started. Then it all became too much. She closed her computer and got up to stalk back and forth across her living room like a caged animal.

Was this what she was like, pushing him away every time he got close, shunning him when he tried to save her life? Of course, she knew the answer. It was, and she had, because what else could you call what she had done to him last summer? What she kept doing to him even now? Small wonder that he had finally reached out to someone else.

It was just that his love, and she knew full well that's what it was, was so huge, so all encompassing, that it frightened her. Her problem wasn't a fear of disappearing beneath it but rather of opening her heart to it. Her bruised and calloused heart was her only protection for her emotions, withered and atrophied from disuse. What would happen if she opened that up to him and he saw what was inside, saw how it paled in comparison to his own. She wasn't good enough. She might have been once, but in the years since her mother's death she had forgotten how to be that person, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see that.

It was an insoluble quandary and now even if she found a solution it wouldn't matter. It was too late for them, at least in real life, and all she had left were stories. That was what brought her back to her computer. Her own hopes might be in fragments on the floor of her soul, but fan fiction, like fairy tales, always had a happy ending. Perhaps fictional happiness was the best she could hope for.

_Eight o'clock found her sitting cross-legged on her couch, her phone in her lap and tears streaming down her face as he played out their entire relationship, text by text._

_**Remember when you first told me about your mother … that was when I knew that someday there would be more to us …**_

_**Remember when we were hunting that serial killer and I stayed at your apartment. I barely slept that night. all I wanted to do was get up and open your door … and watch you sleep. That's all … just watch you sleep. I care that much.**_

_**Remember when you found me after 3XK got away and we sat by that pool and you just took my hand. That was all I needed … we're so close that we don't even need words. Are you really going to throw that all away.**_

_**Remember the freezer and the bomb? We've almost died together … don't you think it's time we tried living instead …**_

_She couldn't take it any more … she knew what was coming next and if she had to see those words she thought she might just break beyond repair. She grabbed her phone and hit the speed dial for his number._

"_Castle, stop it," she gasped as soon as he answers._

"_Why Detective Beckett, so good to hear from you, I thought you might be calling."_

"_I'm not kidding. I need you to stop this right now."_

_There was a long pause while she waited breathlessly for his answer. Finally he spoke, his voice soft and deadly serious. "I'm not kidding either, Kate. And I'm not stopping."_

_And really, she didn't want him to. She had no idea what to do, what to say, but she suddenly knew that she needed him back. "I'll be at your place in fifteen minutes." Then she hung up the phone and grabbed her coat._

* * *

><p><strong><em>ETA: One last note: This will probably be the last chapter before my tale ranges out into the wilderness of an M rating. My original plan was to just go there, rerate the story, and call it a day ... BUT ... I know that there are readers who stay away from M so even though it will be a bit more trouble, if there are enough people who want it, I will do dual chapters from here on, keeping the T rating for the main story and posting the M versions separately. Preferences anyone?<em>**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I really wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, after I had finished the M section, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt that this section needed to go up by itself. As you'll see, the end is pretty much Castle's version of a love letter to Beckett, even though he has no idea she's reading it and she has no idea he wrote it, and it just felt like we (and the characters) needed to take a little breath before moving on.**

**Also, you'll notice that this chapter, and much of the next, takes place entirely in the imaginary fanfic. It seemed to work better that way since any interruptions took away from the impact of what he was writing. I hope you all agree (and don't worry, we will get Kate's reactions in the end).**

* * *

><p>It<em> was actually closer to twenty minutes before Castle heard a tentative knock on his door. When he opened it, he saw her standing there, wan but composed. Without so much as a greeting she slid past him into the loft, avoiding eye contact in favor of looking around his living room.<em>

"_We're going to have to move some furniture," she said._

"_I … we … what?" he said as his mind went some very interesting places._

"_If I'm going to let you back, I'm going to have to teach you some self defense before you get yourself killed."_

"_Couldn't you just give me a gun?"_

"_No! Now are you going to help me push this stuff out of the way or do you want me to go back to handcuffing you to my squad car?" Then she bent over the nearest armchair and started to push._

_He took a moment to adjust his thoughts. He had been worried about an angry Beckett, had prepared for a tearful Beckett, which he had at least some hopes of turning into an amorous Beckett, but this karate-will-fix-my-problems Beckett took a bit of time to cope with. Ever one to go with the flow, he shrugged and leaned over behind her to help._

_As soon as she felt the press of his hips, she froze. "Castle," she growled, "I think I've got this one. Move the damn coffee table."_

"_Sorry, sensei, just trying to follow instructions. You said to help."_

"_Help move," she said through gritted teeth, "not help yourself."_

_He threw up his hands and backed away. "Got it."_

_It took them only a few minutes to clear a sizable space in an area where the hardwood floor was padded by a rug. When they finished she took him by the arm and positioned him opposite her in the middle of the area._

"_Okay, we're going to start with some easy stuff. I want you to go for my throat."_

"_What?"_

"_My throat, Castle, make like you're trying to choke me, or grab my shirt, or whatever."_

"_I thought you were teaching me defense."_

"_I have to demonstrate it first, so would you go ahead and grab me."_

"_You do realize that could be taken the wrong way?" he asked with a grin._

"_Focus, Castle."_

"_Okay, okay," he acquiesced and then reached for her neck._

_The next thing he knew, she had somehow pulled his arm down, making him bend over and stumble towards her. He managed not to fall but as soon as he found his balance, he realized that their relative positions had left him staring straight down her shirt. He had just enough time to register that she was wearing black lace before she grabbed his ear with her free hand and used it to lift his head._

"_Ow, ow, ow … I'm not looking, I swear."_

"_Good, because I need you to pay attention." Then she released him and smirked while he rubbed his ear. "Now grab me again and I'll do it slowly."_

_He reached out again and wrapped his fingers gently around her throat._

"_Good. Now your first instinct will be to ward your attacker off by raising your hands. We want to use that. When your hands come up, grab your wrist with the other hand to make a triangle. See?"_

_He nodded, trying his best to focus on her words and not on the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers. She, however, seemed oblivious to his struggle._

"_Okay, once you've made the triangle, you bring it down on your assailant's arm, aiming for the elbow, that's going to break their hold and pull them in towards you."_

_Of course, when she broke the hold, his hand slid downwards and he could feel her flinch slightly at the feel of his fingers on her collarbone. "I think I've got it," he said._

"_I'm, uh, not finished yet," she told him as she regained her focus. "You want to take advantage of your opponents movement." She mimed throwing a knee into his groin and he couldn't help but startle away. She chuckled at him. "Don't worry, Castle, I'm not actually going to hurt you."_

"_Are you sure of that," he muttered under his breath, thinking of another kind of pain altogether._

"_What?"_

"_Nothing. Is it my turn now?"_

"_Sure. Let's see how you do." When she grabbed his throat, he laughed softly, and she could feel the vibrations of his mirth beneath her fingers, making her breath catch just a little. "What's so funny," she asked._

"_Just a deja vu moment … from my nightmares."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Quit kidding and try to escape."_

_He went through the motions she had outlined, surprised to find how well they worked. Once she was sure he had the sequence down, she made him practice it over and over until he could do it quickly and with ease. Then she showed him a few variations, how to cope with a two armed choke, what to do if the techniques didn't work completely. When she finally signaled that he had done enough, they were both breathing a little harder and coated with a light sheen of sweat._

"_I'll get us some water before we start up again," he said. When he came back bearing two bottles, he found her sitting on the couch with a far away look in her eyes and her lower lip pinned between her teeth. She stood up when he held out her drink, giving him a self-conscious little smile._

"_Penny for your thoughts," he said._

"_Oh, I was just thinking about how annoying you were when I first met you and how badly I wanted to do this to you for real."_

"_And now?"_

"_Huh?"_

"_What do you want to do to me now?" he asked softly._

"_I …" she started before shaking her head. "Castle, try to get your mind out of the gutter."_

"_Actually, that wasn't what I meant, so whose mind is the one in the gutter again?"_

"_Uh-uh, we are not having this conversation." But she blushed and had to take a big gulp of water to cover the moment._

_He decided to help her out. "So, what's next?"_

"_I thought we'd try some rear choke holds. They're much harder to get out of." She motioned him around behind her. "Get me in a headlock."_

_He did as she asked but quickly realized that this position made for much closer contact than their last workout. Gingerly, he wrapped his arm around her neck while trying to hold himself as far away as possible. Unfortunately, Beckett was not satisfied with that._

"_You need to get a good grip. Hold me tighter."_

_He gritted his teeth and pulled her in closer, grimacing a bit when her backside snugged up against his groin. He was trying so hard to think about anything but her that he completely missed her next instructions. She swiveled around to glare at him, causing him even more agony._

"_Castle, are you even listening?"_

"_Mnnn." He took a deep breath to collect himself. "Uh, Beckett, maybe we should skip the demo and you could just talk me through it." And then, because he just couldn't help himself, he buried his face in her hair and inhaled, a low hum rising in his throat as the scent of her penetrated to the deepest recesses of his being._

"_Castle …" she said, her voice a little shaky._

_He thought about how he should stop, just step back, give her space, but he couldn't seem to move. And then he remembered what he had promised himself a few days ago, that this time things would get done on his terms. He had no intention of forcing matters, just nudging them along in the direction he wanted, and really, it was a good thing he had decided this because somehow, his hand had tangled in her hair and was lifting it up, exposing the taut tendons of her neck, and he was bending down, his lips barely grazing her skin, his tongue slipping out to taste her._

_He could feel her shiver under his lips and he wondered if that little spasm was a precursor to her flight response, but then she canted her head just a little to one side, giving him better access to her neck. He wasn't one to waste an opportunity and let his teeth graze down the arc created by her tendons. He felt more than heard, like an infinitesimal vibration, the low moan that came from deep within her._

_She could feel herself trembling. Her brain was telling her to do something, move away and stop this before it got out of hand, but her body wasn't getting the message. Her body was, in fact, doing its best to melt back into him and she could hear herself hum with desire. She needed ... she needed ... and then her panicked thoughts finally got through, a bit more forcefully than she intended. She only meant to get away but the next thing she knew, he was lying on the ground and she was standing over him, one hand clutched to her neck as if his kisses had burned her skin._

_He looked up at her, his impossibly blue eyes filled with a mix of hurt and still lingering desire. "A simple no would have sufficed," he said._

_"What were you doing?" She asked, despising the quaver in her voice._

_"I think that's fairly obvious."_

"_You can't … I'm not …" she stammered, "I told you I'm not ready."_

"_I know and I'm sorry." He got to his feet, carefully reaching out to rest a hand on her arm, rubbing softly. "I said I would wait, and I will, as long as I have to, but Kate, I need to know why. What do I have to do, because I'll do it if you just tell me."_

"_It's not you, it's me. My mother ..."_

"_That's just an excuse," he interrupted, "and I think you know that. You've lived with it for ten years now, and I'm not saying it hasn't affected you, because it has, but the Kate I know is strong and capable and far too resilient to let even a tragedy like that stand in her way. Not if she really wants something."_

_His hand was still on her arm, but she looked ready to bolt, like a half-broke mare trying to decide whether to give in to the caress or run for the hills. Tears pooled in her eyes and she struggled not to let them fall as she raised her eyes to look at him. "I just can't … I can't lose you, and I'm so afraid that there's something inside me that's broken and I need to fix it before …"_

"_I don't think you're broken, and even if you are, we can fix it together. Kate, I don't need perfect. Perfect is for fairytales and do you know what comes at the end of a fairytale, after the happily ever after?" She shook her head and he answered his own question. "Nothing. All it says is 'The End' because there's no story in perfect, there's nothing more to tell. I don't want perfect. I want the struggles, and the growing pains, and the bumps in the road. I want us to have a story and I want to write it together. All you have to do is … let us."_

_Her unshed tears glistened in her eyes and her teeth worried at her lower lip as she stood there, poised on the precipice of a decision. Could it really be that easy? Something that didn't even require action, just … acquiescence. Could she really just …_

_He stepped closer to her, bending down, so that she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek when he spoke. "Let us," he breathed._

_And, closing her eyes, she stepped of the edge and did_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry this took me so long to get up but I had a little real life kerfluffle to deal with before I could finish it. Actually, the real life nonsense made me realize I wanted to take back any disclaimers I made about too much information making it into Castle's supposed fic. See, I work in an industry that has a gossip mill that rivals tinsel town's. And we have a fair share of celebs, almost celebs, wannabe celebs, and filthy rich to provide it fodder. Seriously, sometime I think they should give up the whole horse show moniker and just call it "rich people behaving badly." The point being that if you do what I do and care at all, it behooves you to run occasional Google searches of your own name in the interest of damage control.**

**Anyway, I was somewhat tangentially involved in an incident last summer that made the rounds of the gossip sites. I thought it was long over but then recently, some of the other people involved got themselves into yet another sort of trouble, and some annoying bottom feeder felt the need to resurrect the earlier happenings. Luckily enough, my name did not get mentioned this time and it was a friend who tipped me off about it, but someone did post some pics and needless to say, I do not enjoy having any image of myself (albeit fuzzy and only on the outskirts of the picture) posted in a forum that also features threads involving bad stalker pics of Mary Kate Olsen, a journal of the nighttime activities of that Palm Beach guy who adopted his adult girlfriend, unauthorized closeups of the chest of some girl who posed in Playboy (and a discussion of whether *they* were real or not), and speculation about how the daughter of the real estate mogul who killed his wife was affording to continue her lifestyle. Not nice. Not nice at all.**

**But my point is, it also reminded me of just how much info is out there if you want it. Seriously, there are people with nothing better to do then research and post court documents or search through Twitter for unguarded statements. So yes, I put some pretty significant details into the fic, and for reality's sake, I probably shouldn't have, but for example, they defused a bomb on a city street in broad daylight. Don't tell me someone didn't get wind of that. And the scene when they are finally out of the freezer features several cop cars, complete with lights flashing, as well as at least one ambulance so I think it's pretty reasonable that someone noticed. Hell, the looky-loos probably do know Josh's name, and even the exact date of their break-up. All they'd need would be a few shots of him out with someone else.**

**i do realize that all of this actually has nothing to do with you guys and really doesn't have much impact on the story, but I needed to vent and this was a sufficiently anonymous site for me to do so without any worries about fanning any flames.**

**Okay, I feel much better now. And so, here is your promised smut. I decided to leave it as part of the story as a whole and up the rating, but if you were one of the few who asked that I do a separate chapter, you can easily just skip this one and wait for the next. I have set it up such that the story will hold together without reading this particular part.**

* * *

><p>When<em> she closed the space between them, Castle felt the knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach loosen and melt into a pool of heat that suffused his limbs. Her hands had come up to fist in his shirt, holding on as if she feared she would drown. He cradled her gently, one hand threaded through her hair and the other tracing the contours of her spine.<em>

_His mouth was more insistent, trapping her lower lip between his teeth before he used his tongue to sooth it. Capturing her little moan with his indrawn breath as his tongue breached her lips and then moaning himself at the taste of her. The kiss seemed to go on forever, neither one of them willing to break contact, but finally, breathing became a necessity. Even then, they stayed close, foreheads resting together as they sucked in the heated air between them._

_It was only a temporary respite. When their lips came together again, all pretense of gentleness was lost as three years of sexual tension washed over them. Her fingers fumbled frantically at the buttons on his shirt as he walked them backwards towards the stairs. They never made it. Her hands accomplished their task and he stumbled, slamming them both into one of the pillars that separated his living room from the entryway, as he felt the warmth of her palms sliding up his bare skin. He abandoned all thoughts of the bedroom in favor of making his assault right here, right now._

_He shifted slightly to slide a knee between her legs, plunging his hands into the back of her stretchy workout pants and pulling her in even closer. He had a moment's disorientation as the thought crossed his mind that he was actually palming her ass and she was not objecting, in fact, the way she was pressing up against his thigh and the little mewling noises she was making seemed to indicate approval. Then her hand slid downward, cupping the hard length of him now straining against his jeans, and all conscious thought fled, except for the firm idea that they were still wearing far too many clothes._

_His frantic fingers hooked into the bottom of her sweater and lifted it off, found the clasp of her bra and sent it falling to the floor as well. And then it was all about the slide of skin against sweat slicked skin and she must have felt it too, because she pressed closer, as if she wanted to climb into him, actually inhabit him, two people in one single space and time._

_He meant to take this slow, explore every inch of her, fan the flames until they consumed them both, but the years of waiting had worn away his self control. He didn't even bother to push her pants down, just took advantage of their stretchy top and slipped a hand between her legs, sliding a finger through her wet folds and into her, only to be nearly overwhelmed by the feel of her, her wet, velvet heat as her muscles clenched around him._

_She leaned toward him, one hand on his shoulder for balance, and pressed against him as his thumb worked circles on her clit and his fingers curled inside her until she was gasping out his name (and oh fuck and yes and please) in words half smothered against his mouth. _

_He could feel her whole body vibrating under his hands, a tremor starting in her very core and expanding outward as she broke apart, her teeth pressed to his shoulder in a vain attempt to stifle her cry. He stilled his fingers but left them inside her until the last of her spasms finally faded and she slumped back against the pillar. _

_He brought a hand up to cradle her cheek, his thumb rubbing gently across her lips before he tilted her chin up and gazed anxiously into her eyes._

_"Okay?" he asked._

_And that, more than anything else, the fact that he could still be so unsure of her, was what truly brought home to her just what she had been doing to him for so long. How she has been pulling him in, only to push him away again when the intimacy became too much for her, needing him, taking his love and giving so little in return. It was a testament to his feeling for her, his steadfastness, that he was still here, and it was time ... far, far, past time, that she gave him back what he offered to her so freely._

_And so she met his gaze, the way she was chewing her lower lip betraying her own anxiety, and told him how she felt._

"_I love you," she breathed, her voice barely audible. Then stronger, once she felt the shape of those words on her lips and knew they were right, "I love you."_

And Kate, the real Kate, was shocked to find herself mouthing the words along with the story. Tasting them, testing them, and forgetting for just a little while that, in real life, she had squandered the chance to actually say them.

_She watched the joy that suffused his face and hid her answering smile by turning her head and pressed her lips to his palm, her tongue lazily tracing his life line._

_His fingers laced with her own and he tugged her away from the wall. "Bedroom," he said, his voice low and husky. When she playfully raised an eyebrow he gave a small huff of a laugh. "Sex against the wall is quite nice in theory, but it's something your back tends to regret in the morning … and I don't intend for either of us to have any regrets."_

_Then she was laughing too, and following him willingly up the stairs as she marveled at how their banter could accompany them even here. When they reached the bedroom door, he bent down and hoisted her up into his arms, staggering towards the bed where he unceremoniously dumped her onto the covers when his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he lost his balance. She squealed with surprise then dissolved into laughter at his pained expression._

"_What about your back?" she asked between giggles._

"_I thought it could survive that much, especially since I've imagined doing that for years now."_

"_You've imagined dropping me?" she teased._

"_Among other things," he said, his laughter growing lower and more uneven as he regarded her lying there, tousled and half naked on his bed. "So many other things," he breathed as he bent and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants._

_She swore she could feel the heat of his gaze as it licked up her nakedness while he fumbled blindly with his own pants before pushing them to the floor and kneeling over her. Then his lips were at her ear, his breath warming her neck as he told her, his voice husky with desire, "those things I imagined … they started with this."_

_His lips crashed onto hers, their tongues tangling together as his knee nudged her thighs apart and she could feel the hard length of him pressing against her entrance. She gasped, hips rising off the bed, as he slowly sheathed himself inside her with a groan that came from deep within him. He stilled for a moment, allowing her to adjust to him, but she was more than ready and he responded to her whimpers, setting up a languorous rhythm that had her writhing beneath him._

_And then it was just him, over, around, and through her. The taste of his sweat as her teeth grazed his shoulder and her tongue swept out to sooth the scrape, the feel of his ass as her fingers dug into the muscles, urging him on, the sound of her name on his lips (kate, oh fuck, kate) as he gave voice to his desire. Everything was him. He overwhelmed her senses, so she dug her heels into the backs of his thighs to pull him closer and let him envelop her._

_"Oh god, so close," he gasped before he slowed his thrusts and lifted himself up on his elbows, his sweat dampened hair falling onto his face as he looked down at her. He slipped a hand between them, finding her clit and working it with his talented fingers until she cried out._

_"Come for me, Kate. I want to watch you."_

_The thought of his eyes on her only increased her arousal and she let go of his shoulders to bring her hands to her breasts, kneading and rolling her nipples between her fingers as the weight of his gaze made her feel wanton and warm._

_Moments later, her whole body shook as her orgasm washed through her. It took only a few more thrusts before he also found his release, spilling into her with an almost inarticulate cry._

_"Oh fuck, Kate ..."_

She had to fist her hands in her lap to still their shaking when she finally finished reading the passage. It was as if someone had found their way into her brain and mined her deepest fantasies, put down on the page things even she was unable to articulate. She told herself that she shouldn't have let it affect her this way, her emotions churning and her body fairly humming as she repalyed the scene in her mind, but there was no help for it. it had taken a stranger's voice to make her see what had been right in front of her all along, Castle and the way she wanted him.

For that, if for nothing else, she owed the author a thank you so she waited for her breathing to settle down and then gave the writer what she was sure they most appreciated: another glowing review.

**Whew! *fans self* That was quite an ending but you also did a great job with all the other parts as well. As usual, you've captured them perfectly, her reaction to his injury was just so Beckett, and I can actually see a fight scene like that acting as a catalyst. **

**If only the real Detective Beckett would realize what your fictional version of her finally came to see … that Castle's love (and her own) can see them through anything if she'd only let it.**

**And you gave me sex against the wall … almost. LOL.**

Writing the review, and slipping into her online persona, gave her a little of the distance she needed. She hit the button to send it on its way, and with her usual sense of fatality, turned off the lights in her living room and headed for bed. Alone again


	9. Chapter 9

When Castle got up the next morning he was feeling a little guilty about skipping out on yesterday's murder. To make amends he headed off to the precinct as soon as he was dressed, stopping only long enough to pick up pastry and coffee as a peace offering. When he walked into the precinct he was not surprised to see Beckett already at her desk, but he was surprised at her appearance. Her wavy hair was pulled back from her face into a severe knot at the nape of her neck, although nothing could ever quite contain the mess of curls and a few strands had escaped to rest on her hollow cheeks and dangle in her haunted eyes.

This was a Beckett that he usually saw only during a hard case, and as far as he knew, their current body was no more than a mundane mugging. Something was up. The look she gave him when he walked in did nothing to dispel his worries. The initial spark of pleasure that lit her face was quickly replaced by resignation, with what he could have sworn was a fleeting flash of shame flickering in her eyes in between. It stopped him in his tracks and he held her gaze for a long moment until she gave an almost infinitesimal shake of her head and looked back down at her computer. He hurried to her side, all his senses on alert and used the excuse of depositing her breakfast on her desk to bend over and try to catch her eye.

After studiously ignoring him for several heartbeats, she finally gave in. "Do you want something, Castle?"

"A good morning would be nice."

"Fine. Good morning. Glad you decided to grace us with your presence today."

"Hey, no fair. Keep that up and I'm going to take my coffee back."

Her hand shot out to wrap protectively around the warm cup and an involuntary smile quirked the corner of her mouth. "Not while I'm armed, you're not."

"Hmm, you do have a point. Best not to get between a cop and her coffee." He slid down into his usual chair and continued to regard her thoughtfully. "So, after you finish sucking that down like it's the elixir of life are you going to tell me what's wrong?" He knew he was pushing at their boundaries with his question but, well, she could always not answer. She was good at that.

Her gut clenched again. "Nothing's wrong, I'm just tired."

"Uh huh."

"What about you? You're looking quite a bit chipper than the other day. Have you been working hard, or maybe, hardly working?"

He felt a brief flash of guilt at the thought of the exact nature of his work, but hid it quickly. "Let's just say I had a … productive day."

She flinched at his euphemism. "Is that what they're calling it these days," she said under her breath.

"What?"

"Never mind."

She reminded herself that she had no right to be angry, or even to question him, about what he had been up to the past few days. Thanks to her problems, she had asked more of him than he, or really anyone, could be expected to give. She had no one to blame but herself if he had finally decided to look elsewhere. Pasting the best approximation of a bland smile that she could manage on her face, she looked back up at him.

"Not that we're not glad to have you, but as you pointed out yesterday, our current case is boring and you do have a book to write. Thanks for the coffee and all that, but if you want to go home I wouldn't blame you."

He knew she was just dodging his inquiries, but he also knew when he wasn't going to get any further, so he gave up, at least for the moment. "I would say you're not getting rid of me that easily but actually you are. Where's Esposito?"

"I think he said he was headed down to the gym to get in a quick workout. Why?"

"Perfect," he said ignoring her question. Then he popped up out of his chair and headed for the elevator, leaving her staring quizzically at his rapidly retreating back.

Two hours later, he still hadn't returned. She hadn't eaten last night and the bear claw he brought her this morning was a rapidly fading memory so she decided that if he wasn't interested in doing paperwork, the least he could do was fetch her something more to eat. She hit speed dial only to hear his phone begin to buzz from the seat of the chair next to her desk. He must have left it behind in his rush to go do … well, she really had no idea why he had rushed off. She did, however, have some idea of where he might have gone. Esposito and the gym. With nothing pressing as far as her current case, she decided to go in search of him in the hope of persuading him to provide her with food. She might have lost his love, but she was pretty sure she could count on him for carbs and caffeine, and right now her stomach was telling her to take whatever she could get.

When she got close to the gym a series of random thumps and thuds told her that someone was getting a workout, but it wasn't until she heard Castle's distinctive exclamation that she knew for sure she had found her target. The smile on her face fell, however, when she opened the door and was hit with a terrible sense of deja vu.

"Ow, ow, ow … Jeez, do you have to be so rough?"

"Dude, I showed you how to do it. Besides, it's not like some perp is going to take care not to bruise you. Let's try again," Esposito said as he helped Castle back up off the floor.

Castle caught sight of her as he lurched back to his feet. He wiped an arm across his sweating face. "Hey," he said.

"What … what are you doing?" she asked, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice.

"Research." He shrugged. "I asked Espo here to show me a few moves."

"Hey, Beckett," Esposito greeted her with a tilt of his chin. "Wanna help? Castle here doesn't seem to be catching on real quick."

Neither he nor Castle expected the reaction they got. Her expression crumpled in on itself and she turned on her heel to flee without another word. All they could do was stare at the empty doorway in shock.

Esposito looked over at him, his face confused. "Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"No. Yeah. No, I don't know," Castle replied, his brows pinched together with concern. "Hey, do you mind if we continue this later?"

"Yeah man, no problem. Go find her."

Castle hurried towards the door, stopping only long enough to wipe the sweat from his face and scrub a towel through his hair, and headed off to find his partner and try to sort out this newest problem.

Kate struggled to hold back her tears as she ran for the squad room. She told herself that she was being ridiculous, that it was mere coincidence and not fate cruelly slapping her in the face with the way her own life was running so parallel to the story she was reading. Parallel, that is, except for one important detail - she, the real Kate, was not going to get a happy ending. That had been driven home when she saw Espo and Castle sparring and there was no way that she could stop herself from picturing another sparring scene altogether, and the tumultuous outcome of that duel. A rush of heated imagination that was rapidly followed by the sinking realization that now, after some entirely random writer had shown her what could be, she could never have it.

When she finally got upstairs, she threw herself down in her chair and buried her head in her hands. A short buzz from where Castle's cell still lay on his chair only reminded her of her predicament. She turned her head to look at the offending instrument and found herself reaching out a hand towards it. Yes, she knew she had often berated Castle for snooping on Alexis, and also that what she was contemplating now was far worse, but she couldn't help herself. Maybe she just wanted to complete her misery by finally seeing the evidence of his new relationship with her own eyes. Maybe she hoped that would finally crush her dreams and thus end her torture, but whatever the reason, she grabbed the phone and quickly turned it on.

His notifications showed a rather large number of emails, and with a quick glance around to see if she was being observed, she tapped the button to give her access, her jaw dropping when she was what was there.

**Review Alert: Velvet Heat **listed over and over down the page.

It took a moment for the significance of this to penetrate her brain. _Velvet Heat_, her story and he was … he was the … author of it? Because that was the only explanation for all these messages. This was what he had been up to, not a new squeeze but a new story, a story about … _oh my god_ … he had written a story about them. Actual them, not Rook and Nikki them … and they had … he had ...

She was going to kill him.

Unfortunately, Castle chose that exact moment to appear beside her desk. Without so much as a word, which weren't, after all, very necessary given her thunderous expression, she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the break room. He was pretty sure it was a bad sign when she locked the door behind them and closed the blinds.

She held his phone up to his face, her jaw clenched in fury. "Care to explain this, Castle. Or should I say Alteredego?" She practically spit out his pen name.

His heart sank. This was not going to be pretty. "I, uh … I didn't … I mean no one knows …"

"But I know. Damn it, Castle, you wrote about us, about this precinct, you used our cases, wrote about us kissing and -"

"I never thought you'd know," he pleaded. And then it hit him. "Hey, wait. How _do_ you know what I wrote?"

"I … I," she faltered, before gritting her teeth and renewing her attack. "Don't you dare try to make this about me."

"You did," he said with a sense of wonder that did little to alleviate his current fear for his health and well being. "You read it. You've _been_ reading it, because there's no way you had time between the gym and now to know that much." Then he remembered his lingering sense that one of his most devoted reviewers was somehow familiar and his eyes widened. "You even wrote me reviews. You're Doublevision, I know you are."

"I would never ..." she started to insist, furious that this had somehow worked itself around to her when he was the one who should have been abjectly apologizing for airing their personal details online.

"You told me to keep 'forging valiantly onward' but that was something I said to you a few days ago. You quoted my own words back at me, and if there's one thing I always remember - it's words, so don't try to deny it."

"So what. That doesn't absolve you. For God's sake, Castle, you wrote about us having sex."

"Well, you seemed to like it at the time."

"You're an ass!"

"Better that than a hypocrite," he spat back.

"You … you said you … against a wall, goddamn it!"

By now he was just as furious as her. "Fingerbanging the word you're looking for?"

"You're disgusting!"

"Hah! The wall was your idea. Remember?"

"That was before I knew it was you."

"So, what your saying is, sex against a wall would have been okay if it was someone else?"

"Yes. No! I mean … " Then she realised that he had started to dissolve into laughter in front of her. "What the hell are you laughing about?"

"Are you listening to us," he choked out between spasms. "We sound like it's not just a story, like we actually did those things."

She replayed the conversation in her head and tried to stay mad, but he was right. It was almost funny and the way he was repeating bits of the conversation in between bouts of laughter was only making it worse. Suddenly, she was laughing too. He wasn't forgiven, but she might just let him live.

But their laughter had an edge of hysteria to it and when it finally subsided, they were left staring at each other with no idea what to say. Despite the ridiculousness of the text of their argument, it was clear that some very raw emotions had been laid out in the open with their words - both spoken, and before that, written.

Kate's lower lip found its way between her teeth, betraying her anxiety, and she felt the weight of their silence resting heavy between them. She wished he would break it, give her some idea of where to go next. He was, after all, the one who worked with words. And yet, in a strange way, he already has given her his words - twenty thousand of them, chapter and verse, and there was only one question left to ask.

"Why?" she asks, searching his face for an answer. "Why did you write it?"

He took a deep breath, expelling it slowly as he tried to formulate a response. He didn't need to see her haunted eyes to know that everything - their partnership, their future - was riding on his answer.

"It's hard, Kate. I said I'd wait, maybe not in so many words but I think you knew what I meant. But you have to understand how hard it is, being with you almost every day, having so much and yet still not enough, wanting more … emotionally, and yes, physically." He saw her flinch at that and look away. "You're a beautiful woman, Kate, I wouldn't be human if that wasn't part of it."

She looked back at him, hyper-aware of how close they were standing. They weren't touching and yet it felt like he was all around her, a field of electricity crackling over her skin. She knew what he meant, oh yes, she knew. Her hand crept up, almost of its own volition, to press against his chest and she felt the spark of a circuit completed.

His own hand came up and encircled her own, gently removing it from where it had come to rest. "Don't," he said and then flinched at the hurt in her eyes. He threaded his fingers through hers and used his other hand to brush the stray strands out of her eyes, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. "Don't. When you touch me I can't think and I need to think right now. I need to tell you all this and I have to get it right."

She nodded and he released her, balling his fists at his sides before continuing. "Writing … writing's sometimes a chore, but sometimes, for me at least, it's also a compulsion. Something I just have to do when I have something to say, my therapy, and once I get it out, it's a sort of …" He paused while he searched for the right word. "A sort of catharsis. So you see, I needed to do this, to write this, so that I could go on giving you what _you_ needed, letting you have your space, and not falling to pieces myself."

"But why did you publish it, why put it out there for everyone to read?"

"If I didn't, it would be like the tree falling in the empty forest. I couldn't say all this to you but I had to say it to someone, so I gave it to the readers. I didn't ever stop to think that you might be one of them."

"But I was."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Maybe you weren't ready to hear them, but you should know, I meant every word." Then he stared at her, searching her face, gauging her emotions, before throwing himself off the deep end with his next words. "I meant every bit of it, Kate, everything I wrote. The question is, did you?"

She froze, his question echoing in her ears. She knew exactly what he meant - her review. Not the parts where she teased about smut, although she was sure those were now burned in his brain as well, but the part about letting their love see them through this. _Their love_. It wasn't quite the declaration he had made in the cemetery, and it had been written under what could only be considered false pretenses, but the words were now out there and she either had to own them or completely break his heart.

But still she hesitated on the brink, trying frantically to corral that part of herself that was so afraid of making a mistake that it would rather flee than take a chance. He saw her feelings playing out on her face, saw her trepidation, and his face fell. She could see him closing himself off, resigning himself, and starting to turn away.

"No, wait," she said, finally finding her voice. "You know the answer, Castle, you know it could never be anything but yes."

She reached up, her fingers drifting across his lips before coming to rest along his jaw, and remembered mouthing the words along with the story, trying out their shape and feel and knowing that they were right. This was harder, so much harder, but it was time. She stepped closer to him, ghosted her lips across his own before she spoke.

"I love you," she breathed.

His own breathing hitched at her words. He was going to say it back but he never got the chance. No sooner had she spoken than her lips crashed into his own and the time for words was over. Suddenly his world narrowed down to just her, the slick of her lips, the taste of her when she opened underneath him and her tongue tangled with his own, the beat of her pulse when he dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, the lattice of her ribs under his hands, and the whole slim length of her pressed against him. He felt like he was drowning but he needed her more than air.

Suddenly, there was a noise at the edge of his consciousness but he didn't process it until she broke away. Then he realized that someone was rattling the doorknob and although he hasn't had even the smallest part of enough of her, he knew that he had to stop for now. They were in the precinct and even though he would have been happy to shout his triumph to any and everyone, there were certain proprieties that he knew he would never convince her to forget.

"If we try to look angry do you think they'll believe we were still fighting?" she whispers urgently.

He looks at her, amusement crinkling his eyes. She has been smoothing down her shirt and running her fingers through her hair, but there is nothing she can do about the fact that she looked well and thoroughly kissed. "Not a chance, so you had better prepare yourself. You, Kate Beckett, are about to take the walk of shame."

She hits him for that, but there's no force behind it. "Open the damn door and let's get it over with."

"Not until we have a plan." He grins at her. "Desk and tough it out or elevator and make good our escape?"

"Elevator, you idiot. We're taking the rest of the afternoon off." Then she pulled him down for one final kiss and opened the door, looking back at where he was still standing and staring at her.

"Coming, Castle?" she asked, then sauntered down the hall as he hurried behind her


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: So here is another M chapter and, like the last one, it can be skipped or savored as you desire.**

**I did one to make one other apology - I reread the last chapter and realized that if was full of mistakes, mostly tense issues. i'm afraid I have been rather lax when it comes to editing at this point and I apologize since you wonderful readers deserve better. Hopefully this chapter has fewer problems.**

* * *

><p>The cab ride was sheer torture. They sat on cracked vinyl, surrounded by the scent of stale Doritos and wet shoes, but he could catalog every place their bodies were touching: the slight graze of their knees, the brush of their shoulders, the way their hips bumped as the car navigated the pothole riddled streets. Each point of contact blazed with electricity and his heart thudded so hard he was amazed the cabby couldn't hear it. He knew she felt it too, her heightened respiration and the way she jerked with each of their collisions gave that much away, but he could also sense her nerves.<p>

On the way out of the precinct, she had held tight to her usual Beckett bravado, but now, forced to sit and allowed to think, he knew that all their years building to this point were weighing heavily on her. In her lap her fingers coiled together and he worried that he was losing her to second guesses. He reached over and covered her twisting hands, stilling them. She looked up at him and gave him a tense smile. His own lips curling upward, he brought her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her palm before folding her fingers and returning her hand to her lap. She seemed to relax, letting out a small sigh and leaning into him.

Finally they reached his building. "Keep the change," he said as he passed a wad of cash to the driver. Then he grabbed Kate's hand and pulled her out into the chill air. By the time they finished their dash into the building, Kate, as usual, was the one leading him. She dragged him into the elevator and used her free hand to hit the button for his floor. Whatever trepidation she had felt in the taxi appeared to be gone now that she was free to act.

Castle grinned at her lasciviously. "Alone at last," he quipped.

"So why are you still talking?" she asked before stepping in close to him.

Castle was not about to argue with that. He pivoted them around so that her back was to the wall and pressed his mouth to hers, his hands finding their way under her shirt to splay out along her ribs, his thumbs just grazing the swell of her breasts. She gasped at the feel of his cold fingers against her skin and he captured the sound with his mouth, his tongue sliding in to graze the roof of her mouth. It was a short ride up but when the elevator shuddered to a halt and the doors slid open, he detached one hand from her waist and slapped it up against the door to hold it open, his only thought to prolong the bliss of this moment.

Kate too, was drunk with his caresses. It took several moments for the insistent dinging of someone trying to call the car to penetrate her senses. She used both her hands to push Castle away, then smiled at his dazed expression when he finally stepped back.

"I thought the idea was to take this somewhere more private," she said.

He looked around the elevator and quirked an eyebrow. "I don't see anyone else."

She tilted her head towards his arm, still braced against the doorway and gave a sexy chuckle low in her throat. "Maybe not, but I'd prefer you to have the use of _both_ your hands."

His eyes widened as his imagination ran away with her statement but it had the desired effect. He stepped out of the cramped car and fumbled for the keys to his loft. She stood behind him, pressed against his hip, her nails tracing the muscles of his back through his shirt, as he tried to fit the key into the lock with fingers shaking with desire. Her hand worked its way around his waist, fingers running across his belly, feeling his abs tighten in their wake, then dipped lower to slide just a little way into the top of his jeans. He gave a startled "Oh," and dropped the keys entirely.

She chuckled low in her throat and brought her lips to his ear. "Need help getting it in? Because you're starting to worry me here."

He was quite sure he liked this new, and rather suggestive, Beckett but he was not about to relinquish his title as the king of double entendre just yet. "Not that I'm complaining, but I think your _help _is the problem. If you could just restrain yourself for a moment I might actually be able to get inside." Then he ruined the effect by laughing himself.

Their brief bout of levity finally steadied his fingers and moments later they were both spilling through the door, giggling like teenagers. Her lips still quirking upwards with mirth, she plucked the keys from his hand and tossed them onto a table near the door. Then she ran her hands up his chest and began walking him backwards until his back hit the nearest pillar.

He glanced behind himself. "I do believe I'm going to like the way my life is imitating my art."

"Shut up, Castle, and kiss me." Then her mouth slanted across his own, one hand tangling itself in his hair as she pulled him closer.

Frantic hands worked coats off shoulders and pulled up shirts in their quest to find warm skin. Despite the memory of his story that was reverberating in both their minds, they left the pillar and slowly made their way towards the stairs, a trail of clothing like breadcrumbs in their wake. They stumbled up the steps, half dressed but making reasonable progress until his hand found its way into the unbuttoned waistband of her pants. His fingers slid south and brought her up short, a sudden gasp escaping her as she leaned back into him. He was not prepared for the sudden cessation of their movement and it knocked him off balance. They both tumbled onto the steps, his frantic grab for the railing the only thing preventing them from slipping downward.

Once their position was secure, the sight of her sprawled in front of him encouraged him to continue what he had started. He worked his hand back into her pants, two fingers finding the satin, damp with her arousal, and pressing rhythmically against her sensitive nub. She moaned, her head hanging forward, her hair falling in a curtain around her face, and he pressed his lips to the curve where her neck joined her shoulders, sucking hard and reveling in the taste of her.

She shuddered as his fingers twitched aside her panties and slid through her wet folds, but the edge of a stair was digging into her thigh and her fingers ached from holding onto a banister for balance. "Bedroom," she gasped. "Now."

He wasn't always good at taking orders, but this was one he wasn't going to argue with. Seconds later, they were in his room and he had gently pushed her down onto the bed. He took a moment to admire the view, then bent over and hooked his fingers into her pants. She lifted her hips to help him and once both pants and panties were on the floor, he glided his fingers up her calves, pausing to caress the sensitive skin behind her knees before continuing his journey upward. She shivered as they trailed up her inner thighs before taking a detour to trace the lines of her hips. He bent over her, his breath warming her belly as he breathed her in. His mouth left a wet trail across the smooth skin of her stomach and her skin tingled in its wake. Then his lips found their target and her world narrowed down to the sensations he was creating.

It wasn't long before he had her writhing on the bed, his tongue working magic against her clit as his fingers curled inside her until they hit her _right there_ and she broke apart around him. He waited until her tremors stilled before moving away to shuck off the rest of his own clothes. She pushed herself up and reached out to run her fingers down his torso before wrapping them around his hard length. She pumped her hand once, then twice, then bent her head down and did something with her tongue that was purely evil.

"Kate," he choked out and she raised her head to smile up at him, slow and sexy, and pulled him down onto the bed beside her.

She rolled onto her side and hooked a leg around him. he could feel the wet of her against his thigh and the delicious friction of his erection pressed against her belly as he leaned in to capture her mouth. When the need to breathe finally forced them apart, his fingers tightened against her hip as she moved her mouth to his ear, teeth just barely nipping at the lobe.

"Take me now," she whispered. "I need to feel you inside me."

He rolled her over, finding his place between her thighs and felt his whole world tilt when he finally sheaths himself in her wet heat. She made a little mewling sound of want that he could feel vibrate against his shoulder where she had buried her face and it undid him. Any hope he had of taking this slow or making it last vanished with that one tiny sound and the scrape of her nails against his back. She met him thrust for thrust and her name was on his lips as he spilled himself inside her.

It took a long time before he could collect himself enough to speak, but once he was able, he raised himself up on one elbow and gazed down at her, gently brushing a few sweat dampened strands of hair from her face. "That," he said, "was amazing."

Her lips quirked up in a secret smile. "If I agree with you, is there still going to be room for both me and your ego in the bed."

"Always. There will always be room for you … in my bed, in my heart, in my life - and should you ever want it - in my home."

She looked at him, her eyes a little uncertain, but shining with emotion. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing across his lips. "One step at a time, Castle, one step at a time.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

When she woke the next morning, she found herself alone in his bed. The sun had barely risen and she wondered where he had gone. She found a robe on his closet and wrapped it around herself before heading downstairs in search of him.

He was already in his study, his brow furrowed in concentration and his fingers skipping across the keyboard. When she wandered in a perched herself on the edge of his desk, he shut the computer down with a guilty look. "Good morning," he said, one hand moving over to cover her own.

"Good morning yourself. That wouldn't be _Velvet Heat_ you were just working on, would it?"

"Um well … ow, ow, ow," he gasped as she pinched his earlobe between her fingers. "okay yes. But I have to finish it. You were hardly the only reader."

"I know," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"So it's alright. I can write this last chapter?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," she answered, smileing a little when she watched his face fall. "But we can write it together."

"Oh. Oh, I'd like that."

He flipped the screen back up and as it brightened, she moved around behind him to read what he had written so far. Then she reached around him and placed her fingers to the keys, highlighting all but the first few sentences and hitting delete. He started to protest but she bent her head to kiss him just behind his ear and he subsided with a small murmur of pleasure. her eyes scanned what was still left on the page as she contemplated what would come next.

_When Castle awoke the next morning he found Kate had already left the bed. He had a moments panic before he spotted her leaning against the wall, her gaze fixed on the slowly brightening sky. he got up and went over to her, his arms encircling her waist. For a moment he just held her there and breathed in her scent._

_When the tension in her body melted away and she rested her head back against him, he spoke into her ear. "I hope your not staring out there and planning your escape."_

That was where she had cut it off and now it was her turn to add to the story. Chewing her lower lip, she began to type.

"_I don't think I could possibly find my way away from you. At least not anymore,' she said with a sigh._

Kate took her fingers off of the keys and waited for him to continue. He looked back at her, reading the questions in her face, then wrote out his answer.

"_I guess last night changed the landscape a bit." When she nodded he stroked her hair and hugged her more tightly to him. "I think it's a good thing, Kate. New ground, fresh possibilities. We'll find our way and we'll find it together."_

Then he put his hands back into his lap and waited for her to take over.

"_Together," she echoed. She turned around, her hand pulling him down towards her until their lips were mere millimeters apart. "Together," she whispered against his mouth, then she kissed him._

When she finished typing, he found himself staring at the words she had put on the page, his heart filled up with her. When his hands went to the keyboard she reached out to stop him.

"I think that's as good a place to end as any," she said.

"It just needs one last thing," he told her. Then, centered on the page, he wrote two words, but they were not the ones she expected.

_The Beginning_

* * *

><p><strong>So, my part of this tale finally comes to an end as we leave Castle and Beckett to find their way through their new relationship. i just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you readers and reviewers. i never dreamed this story would capture the imagination of so many of you and I am flattered and grateful for all the ways you have let me know.<strong>


End file.
